


CinderCas

by BirdBoneGirl



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cinderella AU, Drag Shows, Evil Fairy Godfather Crowley, F/F, F/M, Homophobia, M/M, Trans Female Character, Transphobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 15:16:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 30,449
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17490335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BirdBoneGirl/pseuds/BirdBoneGirl
Summary: Dean is a prince set to marry a woman he has never met. Despite the fact that he doesn't want to marry her he is willing to do so to protect his kingdom and to make the alliance so his younger brother Sam will be free to marry the love of his life, a noble of no import named Jessica.Castiel is a newly orphaned son with a wicked step father, Zachariah and his two sons, Bartholomew and Gadreel. When Castiel realizes he wants to be a woman and meets the man of his dreams her life changes forever.





	1. Alliances- Dean

"You don't have to do this, you know," Bobby grumbled, dipping his pen into the inkwell and tapping the nib on the edge to dispel the excess. 

"Yes I do, Bobby," Dean said, pacing in front of the fireplace in agitation. "We need this alliance." 

"You don't have to sacrifice yourself every single time there's a hiccup," Bobby said, as he added numbers to the ledger. 

Dean stopped short to stare at his adviser and mentor as is he had gone mad, "A hiccup? Bobby our entire future rests on this working out, if they don't bail us out of this mess we are done."

Bobby set his pen in it’s holder and looked at him squarely "I still don't see how you marrying some girl is supposed to save us from a damned dragon infestation."

Dean was ready for this argument. "From the reports you acquired, we know they took care of that nest in Scotland, they can help us. If all it takes is marrying their youngest daughter then so be it. End of story." 

Bobby shook his head, "You sure you don't want me to run up there and steal that damned sword?" Dean could see the old man was itching to do just that. 

"That wouldn't be exactly diplomatic," Dean pointed out. 

"It wouldn't be the first time we did things the quiet way," Bobby muttered looking like he wanted to strangle his King. 

Dean just glared at him.

This also wasn't the first time they had discussed this. Frankly they both knew that getting their hands on that sword wasn't as simple as all that. Dean wouldn't lie and say he didn't wish that was truly an option. He was also certain it was the route his late father more likely would have taken. He was also certain it was that underhanded overly secret sort of thinking that had gotten his father killed. The thought of marrying this girl wasn't exactly on the top of his list of things to do, but they had exhausted all other options and desperately needed aid. It also was a solid alliance with a powerful country, one that could stabilize their country for the next generation. In turn, that stability in place, he could free up his brother to marry for love instead of alliance. 

His counselors and advisers had made it clear until this marriage was arranged and executed they would not give Sam permission to marry, so he felt he had better get a move on it. Bobby, his father’s old steward and most trusted friend liked to play devil’s advocate in such decision making processes. Dean would never admit how valuable arguing his points was with the old man, or tell him how much he needed him now that his father, the king, was dead. 

"Look Bobby,” the arguing was valuable, but he was also tired of talking about this. He had made his decision already.   
“this marriage is happening”

“Even with their aid there is no guarantee that we can kill this creature.” Bobby said, pushing himself up to a standing position. 

Dean scrubbed his face, “Can we please get on with the planning?"

"There's not much else to plan, your royal idjit," he even made a perfunctory bow.

Dean chuckled at that despite his foul mood. "Fine, tell Ellen I need to talk to her about the ball plans when you see her."

"Why would you think I would see her?" Bobby said, looking spooked. Dean knew full well that the old man liked his widowed step mother and found any and every excuse to be in her path. Dean wasn't below matchmaking. He was getting kind of good at it actually. 

"Just if you happen to see her, Steward," he said dismissively. 

"Oh, right. Of course," the gruff man made a correct, if slight, bow and left without another word. Unless you counted the mutter of idjit as he closed the door behind him. 

Sometimes he wished he didn't know so much about everything. It was bad enough that he had a kingdom to run, a brother and sister to look after in a world of courts and intrigue. He also had to keep them safe from monsters which by all rights shouldn't exist. 

He was both excited and dreading the forthcoming ball. It had originally been to celebrate Joanna's 16th birthday but now it had also become the day of his brides presentation to the land. He would only have a few weeks to get to know her before he would announce to the kingdom the engagement.

He hadn't told Bobby or his brother yet that he also had only that time to court the lady and get her to say yes. Apparently, the lass was known to be cold and had turned down the very suitor who had killed the dragon that they intended to aid in their own dragon extermination. What could he do to win a girl he had never met who cared not for a hero? He had charmed a few girls into bed before, and he would just have to charm this one. 

Part of him did wonder if there was even the tiniest inkling that there could be love there? And wondered if he was even capable of it. He was cold and ruthless in his protection of his country and his kin. He hardly had room for all he did, let along room for love. He almost felt sorry for this girl they were sending to him.


	2. O' Brother

Roosters do not crow at the break of dawn. They crow well before the sun hits the horizon and seemingly anytime they felt like it. Castiel found himself waking groggy and bone weary to the grating sound that ripped through the night. He scrubbed a hand across his stubble covered face and sat up, for a moment confused as to where he was. 

The hearth. Again. He had fallen asleep in front of the fire. Well it was a good deal warmer than his drafty attic, but it wasn't really the smartest thing to do. He searched around till he found his book and then cruelly made himself get up.

He put his book away in his hiding spot behind sacks of beans on a shelf near the larder door, next to other leather bound books he had managed to steal from the library before the rest had been sold off piece by piece. He then marched his stiff legs outside into the gray predawn light that filled up their tiny courtyard.

Since roosters were on his mind, he decided to start his chores with the hen house. The hens clucked at him irritably as he entered, not at all happy with the intrusion. He found a good haul from them, better than any this week, and was whistling when he left the fenced area.

"If it isn't little ol'Cinder-Cass.” 

Castiel halted in his tracks, the hair on the back of his neck standing on end with sudden anxiety. 

"More like Cinder-ass, look at the state on his trousers," Gadreel's voice joined Bartholomew's, with a vicious chuckle.

Castiel just furrowed his brow holding his basket of eggs. He wasn't going to back down but pushing past his step brothers would only mean smashed eggs and faces. He squinted his eyes at one then the other wishing the blond bastards would leave him alone. 

They menaced nearer, their heads blocking out the morning sun as they came at him. He backed away, a step at a time, gently setting down the eggs next to the well as he kept out of range. Once the eggs were safe he crouched into a defensive position and waited. 

Bartholomew lunged at him first, and he stepped to the side, punching him in the shoulder as he stepped passed him. 

Gadreel, seeing his brother fail, stepped up with a wide swing, and Castiel had to duck. He used the motion to lunge forward right into Gadreel's stomach, knocking him off his feet at the unexpected impact. 

Feeling triumphant he straightened, only to find Bartholomew holding his arms behind his back. Gadreel got to his feet and laughing, punched him right in the stomach. 

"Just desserts, Cinder-butt," Gadreel sneered, rearing back to strike again. 

Castiel pushed back into Bartholomew and using the leverage kicked up, knocking away the next strike, and knocking Bartholomew off balance. He broke his step brothers grip and started running. 

Castiel ran to his room, practically flying up stairs as he took them three at a time. He slammed the attic door behind him and leaned against the door and breathing heavy, not so much from the run but from the emotions tumbling through him. He knew his actions would have consequences, but he was just glad to be out of their grasp. That he didn't hear their footsteps on the stairs after a minute, he decided they weren't going to follow after all. He absently rubbed his stomach where his step brother had punched him, trying not to think too hard. Thinking always got him into trouble. 

The stark morning light slanted into the room, the dust making the light seem tangible. He wasn't normally in his room during the day and he took in the sight of his shabby belongings to distract himself. 

One shaft of light lay directly on a loose floorboard as if to taunt him. It was the very spot he had hidden away his most prized possessions. The ones he feared would disappear if his step family discovered them. 

He was on the floor pulling up the boards without a second thought. There he found the box he had filled with the few possessions of his parents he had managed to squirrel away before his step family had sold it all. That had required a few acts of stealth in the middle of the night. All he had left was his parents wedding attire, a suit with an embroidered waist coat, his mothers white dress, a thing of simplistic beauty all seed pearls and lace, his mothers veil, a small portrait of his mother that his father had commissioned after their betrothal, three small leather bound books he had read ten times over, the fourth being the one he had hidden in the kitchen, a hair long pin made of gleaming silver that somehow never tarnished despite the imperfect storage, a few ivory combs and the most prized possession of all a pair of gold slippers. 

His mother had told him of the slippers many times, how she had always been self-conscious about her feet as they were larger than most girls she knew. When Chuck, his father, had found out about this he had gone to great length to commission a pair of slippers like no other. When the package arrived, hand delivered by the peddler all had gathered for it. His mother had opened the package and there were two slippers of silk and gold thread. When she had put them on her feet they were a perfect fit. It was the last thing he ever gave her and she only got to wear them once in public, for a ball at the palace, before Chuck was found murdered at a crossroads. 

He rocked back on his heels and closed his eyes. It was an old pain, one he tried not to revisit, but sometimes he couldn't help poking at the past. If only his father has lived, and his mother had not been forced to remarry maybe his life would be more bearable. He never could figure out why his step family hated him so much. Why didn't they like him? He followed orders and tried to be unobtrusive. He wanted to be a good son, in memory of his parents, and even to his step-father. 

Lord Zachariah, however, did not make that easy, and his sons made it all but impossible. He thought he understood his step-brothers animosity. He was the eldest and by rights would inherit the entire manor once Zachariah died. Not that there was much more than the estate itself to inherit. 

The money left from his mothers estate had been used up by the Lord Zachariah's extravagance until there was nothing left. When the debt collectors had come knocking it had somehow fallen on Castiel's shoulders to make up for the lack. 

He had watched, helpless as the family heirlooms and assets had all been sold off. All the servants, some from generations of household employees, had all been summarily dismissed. Even the livestock had been cut back to the bare minimum. With each open position the work had all befallen on Castiel.   
“Well you are to run the estate once you hit your majority, you are in charge.” The Lord had explained.

He had at first taken on the tasks gladly, wanting to prove himself to his step-father. Willing to do anything to keep up the family manor and his family’s good name intact. Some items he managed to save from the purge, like the stash under the floorboards and a few other items squirreled away around the house, like the books in the kitchen. It hadn't been enough. He had become less than an indentured servant in his own house and his family, instead of being grateful or offering to help had decided instead to take up their extravagant ways once more. Mounting new debts and heaping more and more onto his shoulders daily. 

Castiel did what he could each day, obeyed them when he could and each night he thought of all the good he had had when he was a child. How his parents had loved him and how some day he would be free of them and could live his own life the way he chose. 

On good days he believed this. On bad days he knew he was fooling himself. That he was wicked and broken and all the punishment his step family piled on him was the result of the terrible thoughts in his head. The ones he never let even see a dusty shaft of morning sunlight. 

He put the slippers carefully back into the back and shut the lid then put back the floorboards, putting the loose nails back into place and heaving himself to his feet. He couldn't hide here all day. His brothers would come get him if it came to that. He still had chores to do, and he didn't trust his brothers to have brought in the eggs after their fight. 

He closed the door behind him and slowly descended the stairs.


	3. Princess Charlie

He wasn't expecting her to come in riding her own steed and wearing chain mail and riding the steed like a man. So, when the red headed woman pulled up her entourage in tow in the large stone courtyard Dean thought she was perhaps the queens captain of the guard. 

"Well met my woman, where be your princess?" Sam asked as the woman tossed him the reigns of her steed.

The woman laughed shaking her head as she pulled off her helmet. "You, my good giant, are looking at her." She tossed her helmet to a waiting page and dismounted with a fluid ease. She was wearing britches and knee high boots...and chain mail. 

Dean was both confused and elated. At least she wasn't a milksop of a girl.

"Welcome to my Kingdom, Princess Charlotte." Dean extended his hand and she walked up the stairs where they waited. 

Her nose wrinkled at her own name, "Charlie, if you would be so kind. We are all of royal blood after all," she corrected as she passed by, ignoring his proffered hand. "Show me this great castle I've heard so much about."

Dean shrugged, at least she wouldn't be boring. Bobby, his steward, rushed forward to get ahead of the Princess and at least pretend to be leading the way. Sam joined him at his side, Dean still wasn't used to the sudden height difference between them and looked over at his chest before raising his head to talk to him.

"Well I think you got what you asked for," Sam commented.

Dean made some disparaging noise. Just what he needed some headstrong girl who wanted to run everything. "At least she isn't made of porcelain," he agreed. Sam smirked at him. 

"She's a Scot, how could she be?"

"True enough."

The main hall was still decked out in the black banners of mourning, a year later. Dean realized he should probably have them taken down before the ball. Hopefully there would be much to celebrate in the coming month and he could start to put some of his grief behind him. 

Jo was talking to the captain of the princess’s personal guard, Jody Mills, as they entered the hall. She turned towards them and the Princess stopped short. 

"Your majesty?" Dean prompted, looking from his little sister and back to the princess. 

Jo was walking towards them now, Jody at her heels, being her usual over protective self. The woman having practically adopted her after being promoted to the post. Joanna extended a hand to Charlie and their eyes locked. 

"Wel-welcome to Winchester," Joanna said, stumbling over her words slightly. 

"A- A pleasure," Charlie stammered back. 

They both laughed.

Dean cleared his throat at the breach in protocol. Jo stood up straighter and dropped the princesses hand. "Apologies for my manners, Lady."

"Hardly a problem as I was laughing myself. It is a delight to meet such a free spirit among the stone walls of this castle. Are you coming along on my tour?" Princess Charlie smiled, losing some of her brusqueness with the action. 

"But of course, I wouldn't dream of being elsewhere," Jo extended her arm and the Princess took it and the rest of them were forced to follow. 

Dean exchanged a look with Sam, who looked as ready to burst out laughing as the ladies had. Trying not to feel put upon he ushered the small group forward further into the castle.   
Jody fell into step beside him as they strolled. Her familiar stride was comforting in a strange way. It was hard to tell under her exterior but the woman had suffered tragedy only a few years before when her child and husband had been killed by a witches attack. She had been invaluable in dealing with the threat despite her loss. Afterward, Dean had asked if she would like to have a position in the royal guard, thinking the last thing she should do is stay where tragedy had befallen her. Having no other family, she had agreed and it had only taken a few months before she had risen in the ranks landing herself the new position as the head of Joanna's personal guard after her quick thinking had saved the princess from certain death at the hands of one of the fey. 

Dean tried to lead the tour but by the third room, Joanna had completely taken over the narrative. She actually knew more of the history of each room, down to where every chair, rug and footstool hailed from. Somehow her litany did nothing to bore Charlie who kept asking questions as if she were tucking each bit of knowledge away for later use. He supposed if they did marry, those details might be crucial information, but he failed to see how they were interesting. Sometimes women’s fascinations confused him greatly. 

"They make an interesting pair," Jody said as Jo tripped and practically fell into Princess Charlie's arms. 

"Hm?" Dean asked, looking at her distractedly. Her black hair was pulled back in a tight braid that fell over her shoulder, giving her a severe, yet appropriate look for head of the guard. 

She opened her mouth to say something, then shut it again, watching the girls and they giggled and straightened skirts. "Uh, nothing." He liked Jody if only because she never used any honorifics with him except in formal situations. 

Dean felt like he was missing something, but decided he didn't have time to decipher cryptic comments. 

"Shall we show the Princess to her chambers now? I am sure she is tired from her journey and could require some freshening up before the feast. Yes?" The sooner he could get away from all this decoration talk the better. 

"Excellent idea, brother." Jo chimed in, smiling cheerily. "I'll show her the way. Jody?" Jody gave Dean another pointed look and stepped forward to join the ladies. Sighing in relief of the onerous task of diplomatic courtship he fell into step with Bobby and hurried away so he himself could prepare for the state dinner.


	4. By Royal Decree

The town wasn't close to the old manor, he had to take the horse and carriage in to get the shopping done, usually. Today he decided to just take the horse and load up the panniers with the necessities. That way he could use the cool forest trails instead of the open roadways and reduce his risk of meeting his brothers along the way. They had left hours earlier on who knew what errand and he wanted no part in thief schemes as it usually just spelled trouble for him. Heaven knew he was the one who always seemed to get into hot water when they were in involved.

So he had saddled his horse, a beige mare he called Grace and set off into the forest at a slow canter. The ride was pleasant and the forest air was cool and moist. He arrived in town as the sun was just cresting the tallest roof. He passed several carts as they trundled through the large open gates. 

The guards let everyone pass with a lazy nod, looking half asleep in the soon to be scorching heat. Cas took Grace to a trustworthy stable that knew him, he even spared a penny to the stable lass even though he knew his step father wouldn't approve. But he also knew that Grace would get better care. And really kindness was its own reward. As was the girls winning smile.

The town was a bustle with activity, it was the first truly nice day in over two weeks and some of the first big harvests of the spring were coming in. Women were out in spectacular finery to show off, Castiel studied the dress of a woman and her three daughters. They were obviously the latest import from Paris and he was filled with envy. 

He knew the family, they had been friends of his parents long ago, but they paid him no mind as they passed by, either not recognizing him or deliberately snubbing him. It was unclear. Just as he was about to move on, the youngest girl, Anna, smiled at him and nodded discreetly. He awkwardly smiled back earning him a sly wink from the redhead before she hurried after her family.

The encounter bolstered him as he made his way passed stall after stall that led him towards the towns main square. On the way he made a few purchases from stalls he frequented, exchanging pleasantries with old acquaintances and catching up on news. By midday he had all the parcels he had been sent and headed back towards the main square. 

Before he'd even gotten to the square he could hear the herald put out his cry.

"Here-ye, here-ye. By order of his Majesty Dean the first," he began his highly trained voice reaching out well above the bustle, Cas quickened his pace and hurried to see what the announcement was all about. 

“In honor of his sister the Princess Joanna, on the eighteenth anniversary of her birth the 30th of July, to mark her majority we hereby announce that a Royal Ball to be held at the palace. Furthermore, eligible gents and maidens of all stations are called to attend! His majesty and the Prince Samuel look forward to a night that our fair country shall not soon forget!" 

The murmur that had started at the beginning of the announcement rose in a crescendo as the herald closed his scroll and turned smartly around leaving the square followed by his guard escort. Presumably to go the next square over and do his job all over again. No doubt every town and village in the country was hearing the same announcement. 

Castiel couldn't help but feel a thrill go up his spine. Every eligible gent and maiden. Even he could attend whether or not his step father acknowledged his noble background. He had a moment where he imagined himself at the palace dancing among the crowd. Who knew maybe he'd even meet the prince...

He felt himself blush at the thought. He could see himself in a gown like the ones he had seen on Anna, waltzing his way around the ballroom...

"There he is!" Bartholomew said, his voice carrying over the din of the crowd. 

"Told you that was our mare at the stables,” Gadreel said. 

Reality came crashing back down around him as Gadreel and Bartholomew closed in on him. The sunny day turned darker in his vision. Hadn't they had enough of tormenting him that morning?

He stood his ground, saying nothing as they approached. He wished he wasn't burdened down with the day's shopping. Even if it was just a couple saddle bags. 

Castiel, still high on the news that all were welcome to the ball, turned tail and ran away from his step brothers as if chased by hell hounds. He dashed down the nearest side street then turned a corner and passed a line of stalls, he ducked into one and unthinking grabbed a scarf from a large display that was hanging in the sun, tossing him a coin, the man looked startled, but didn't protest as he ran off. He then slipped the scarf around his head to disguise himself and melded into the crowd.

When he was sufficiently down the bustling street he looked back over his shoulder. Bartholomew and Gadreel were scanning the crowd from the alleyway he had emerged from, he turned back before they spotted him and turned onto another alley. There was much less space between the buildings here and the air seemed chillier between the stone foundations and cobbled street. There were fewer people here and the only merchants operated out of makeshift stalls. 

Hawkers in this area were more fervent and bold away from the main street, but he kept away from them with practiced ease, moving further into the warren of alleys. He made a few twists and turns and came to a dead end. A well kept colorful traveling merchant wagon stood at the far end. Before he completed the turn, he checked behind himself again, and swore he saw the toe headed twins coming around the previous street.

 

He decided he needed to hide. He ran to the little wagon, and took the three little wooden steps all painted red, up into the place. There was no one inside, but the place was deceptively large on the inside. He wouldn't have believed the little wagon could hold so much. On either side were rows of gowns. Gowns of every size shape and color, and all in the latest style. 

He set down his saddle bags, momentarily stunned by the largess around him. His hands reached out as he slowly stepped forward to clutch at each one. Silks and satin, velvet and even gossamer. He had never seen such beauty in all his life. He snatched one of the dresses off the rack, there was a bronze mirror in the center of the wagon and he held the dress up to himself to see what it looked like.

He stood there stunned by the effect. He had never seen himself as he had wanted to before. In fact so stunned was he, that he almost forgot he was being pursued. He might have stood there completely mesmerized had he not heard a shout outside. Dropping the gown where he stood he pushed himself further into the hanging gowns trying to hide himself. His cheeks were flushed red, as if he had actually been caught looking at himself in a gown. His breath came in ragged gasps of guilt and worry.

 

He heard raised voices again, and recognized his brothers. He curled himself further into a little ball at the back of the wagon. There was also an unfamiliar voice outside, a deep rich voice that rivaled Bartholomew's growl. The new voices words were short and clipped. The door he had come in suddenly slammed shut, casting all around him in shadows.

More arguing. He could just make out the words now, the speaker was closer to the front of the wagon now. "No one gets into my wagon without my say so. I have had no customers for an hour. No, I was actually just moving to the main square, I hear there is to be a ball and I must show my wares. Now kindly shove off and mind your own business."

There may have been more discussion but he couldn't hear much. He started to breathe easy and uncurled himself only to end up sprawled on all fours as the wagon started to move. He then heard the jangle of harness and the clop of heavy horses hooves.

The little wagon was sturdy, but creaked ominously as it rolled across the packed dirt and then onto the tightly cobbled avenues. Castiel managed to situate himself so he didn't keep falling over, and once he got used to the movement he even got to his feet once more. He walked carefully across the moving planks and picked up the fallen gown he had dropped, hoping the fabric wasn't mussed. Of course just as he was brushing out the blue velvet the wagon lurched to a halt sending him into the wall of gowns and ending up tangled ingloriously in a pile of blue gowns.

He heard the sound of footsteps on the wagons stairs and the door was opened. He tried to push himself up and under the gowns as if he could hide in the cramped space.

A pair of perfectly polished black boots stood in front of him and he looked up to find a short man in an outfit of navy blue. He had a neat beard, a sarcastic smirk and a twinkle in his eye.

"Well what do we have here?" He asked, as if Castiel were an interesting bauble at the market.

Cas stammered out an incoherent string of apologies and explanations. The man held up his hand to stall him. He then extended the same hand to help him to his feet.

Cas was still clutching the original dress to his chest as he regained his feet. The man was a good head shorter than him once they were upright and he looked at the dress in Cas's hand with disapproval.  
"Planning on keeping that were we?"

"I-I wasn't trying to steal it. I was just admiring-"

Crowley smirked and held out his hand for the dress. Castiel blushed relinquishing the garment. Crowley raised an eyebrow as he turned to the rack.

"You like the dress?"

"I like all your dresses. I hope I didn't ruin any of them."

"Well I can't say you've treated them with the utmost respect...but I'm sure it's nothing that can't be fixed," he stood there staring at him. "You can go."

Castiel nodded, grabbing up his bags and almost falling out of the wagon without using the short little stairs. They were now in the main square market, and the bright little wagon had already attracted a little crowd of ladies who had just heard news of the ball.   
In a daze, Castiel walked away. When he was halfway across the square he looked back and saw the short little man staring after him.


	5. Dangerous Game

Dean knew he was in trouble. It has been a truly stupid move to go headlong after the boar like that. Who exactly had he been trying to impress? 

Well he knew who he was trying to impress, but he was certain she didn't give a flying fuck how well he could track and hunt game. He couldn't seem to impress her with much, so he was grasping at straws.

Now the damned thing had him cornered and he wasn't going to make it out without injury. Or worse. Boars were notoriously vicious. 

Hoof beats. His people had caught up with him. Either they would save him, or witness his demise. At least he wouldn’t be alone at the end. 

"Sam! Over here! Quickly! The damned thing has me cornered!" he called out, his voice harsh. 

He don't dare take his eyes off where the boar had fled into the bushes. He could hear it stomping around just out of sight. He heard the horses fast approach just as he saw the boar break through the underbrush and charge. Something hit his back. Then he was being lifted, the boar passing beneath his legs and then turning away from the beige legs of the horse going full gallop. Strong arms hauled him up and over the back of the horse in the most undignified manner and the continued to gallop on. Dean felt a branch hit his arms and shoulders and dangling feet with rough slaps until the horse finally pulled up into a small clearing. 

Only then did the strong arms let him up and he slid back so he could set his wobbly legs on the ground. When looked up all he could see was the sun surrounding a dark figures head as he towered over him from atop his mount. 

Dean felt queasy, his leg stung where the boar had grazed him, not to mention the slaps of branches across his arms and legs and he felt unsteady on his feet after all the jostling of a sideways ride. His vision blurred into seeing double as he tried to focus on his rescuer. 

"Are you alright?" Asked the gravelly voice above him, the man still haloed in white light. 

Dean tried to talk, but found breathing was a bit difficult after having his chest compressed. So he coughed and swallowed a few times before managing a strangled assent after a few failed attempts.

"You should probably avoid boars in these woods, if only because the king would have your head for poaching." 

"Well actually..." Dean started but then the man's horse moved a step forward and he finally saw his face. Perhaps more to the point their eyes connected.

The man had the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They stood like this for what seemed like an eternity or no time at all. Dean felt it almost impossible to look away. It was as if he could see all the secrets of the universe. He felt hot all over as the man stared back at him silent and steady on his beige mare. 

A horn sounded in the distance causing the man to sit up straighter in his seat, though he didn't break eye contact. 

"That must be the king out on a hunt now," The mystery man said.

"I should join them," Dean managed. Feeling like anything he said was inadequate next to the conversation their eyes seemed to be having. 

"You’re with the royal hunt then." It wasn't a question, more like a statement. Dean nodded, but slightly. For some reason not wanting to tell the man he was the king. Next to his savior he suddenly felt unworthy. 

"I got separated." He said. 

The man smiled. "Tell the king he shouldn't let his beaters flush out boars around here, that one has caught a couple people already."

Dean smirked ducking his head to hide the blush that surfaced for his own foolishness.

"Need a ride?" 

"If you wouldn't mind."

The man didn't hesitate, holding out a hand to help him up. He was strong, as Dean gripped his forearm he felt catapulted up onto the back of the horse in front of the man. 

Dean realized the horse had no saddle, "What's she called?" He asked patting her gently to reassure her he meant no harm. 

"Grace," The man said.

Before Dean could ask the more pressing question of who the man was he was clicking his teeth and the mare was starting forward. The man snaked his arms around him to steady himself, grabbing locks of her mane guiding her towards the horns sounding in the distance. Without warning he kicked the horse into a gallop back into the woods. 

Maybe it was riding bareback or perhaps it was the mans arms on either side that he found himself gripping for dear life, but for a moment he felt like he was flying. The wind in his face and his feet hanging free of stirrups. No sword on his hip or reigns to hold onto. He was completely held up by the man behind him. He wasn't sure if he liked the feeling or wanted to vomit. Still the ride was swift, he was only slapped by a few low hanging branches and soon the horses gallop lighten up and the man had pulled Grace into a stop with little trouble. 

"They will probably be here in a minute judging by the sound." The man said, his hand loosing the horses light mane. Dean extracted his death grip off the mans arms as he let him go. Dean took this as an invitation to dismount and did so, giving the horse a pat on the neck as he landed, none to steadily. 

"Thank you-" he said as he turned around to talk to the man but he was already clicking his tongue. Grace leaps back into action as she turned taking the man away as swiftly as he had come. 

The king stood there agape. "Goodbye..." He muttered to himself. 

A horn sounded behind him, much closer this time. Sighing, he turned to scan the woods for his party. He definitely wasn't stuck thinking about mysterious blue eyed strangers carrying him through sun dappled woods when the party came into view.


	6. Escapism

Castiel rode Grace hard until they emerged from the woods, sunlight dazzling him for a moment. He was breathing harder than was strictly necessary, he felt like his heart might explode from his chest from its mad beating.

He took stock of himself a little at a time and as he counted limbs and fingers... his breathing slowed and he felt his hit cheeks cool. 

What had just happened? He felt like he'd been struck by lightning, the mans eyes had been so green he couldn't look away. Not to mention his perfect face as if it had been sculpted by an angel...

As if he wasn't enough of a girl, now he had fallen in love with a man...

He shook his head trying to dispel his thoughts. He was being ridiculous. No one fell in love that fast and there was no reason to think he could love a man. Surely not. Except...

He had seen the man run by him from his perch in a tree where he had decided to eat his lunch of a couple hard boiled eggs. Grace had been busy munching some of the grass in the clearing and he had just been minding his own business grateful to be out from under his step family. The man had calmly crossed the clearing over, his sword ready and looking like a stalking cat when the boar had broken through the underbrush. He had witnessed the first pass and then the one where the foul beast had actually grazed his leg without the man getting even close to him. The man fought beautifully, it could have been a dance. But as soon as he had seen the hit he had dropped his lunch to the forest floor and jumped onto Grace without even bothering to re-saddle her. He had gotten there just in time. Surely the mans injuries could have been worse, if not deadly had he let the creature rend him.

Had he fallen for him the first instant or only after he had carried him away from danger? It was impossible to say. But he hadn't been able to look away from his stalwart gaze. Hadn't been able to see or hear anything else but the man's deep voice. Hadn't been able to see anything but his beautifully sculpted face. Hadn't wanted anything else other than to stay there with him forever.

So naturally he had run away. Nothing he wanted ever turned out. Everyone he had loved had been cruelly taken from him, he wouldn't let a similar fate come to this man. So he had run away before it got any worse. Before he got himself attached.

Only trouble was, somehow he felt that he wasn't going to able to escape the feelings now welling up inside his chest. He rushed home, and up to his attic and stood in front of his tarnished mirror letting the memories come

_"Hold still Castiel."_

_Castiel stopped twirling, and not only held still but held his breath so he wouldn't disturb anything. When he stopped he looked at the standing mirror where he could see his reflection. He was standing on the little platform, his mother crouched down setting pins in the hem of the dress he wore. His hair hung loose around his shoulders, and he looked beautiful, just like his mother._

_His cheeks were getting redder and redder as he held his breath, and it cracked him up. His breath escaped as he laughed._

_"Castiel!" his mother admonished, standing up and putting her hands on her hips. But she was grinning and she bopped him on the nose in jest. "It won't be long, you don't have to wear the dress much longer. Please stand still so I can finish this for Maybelle's daughter!"_

_"But I don't ever want to take it off. It's so pretty!"_

_She smiled, her red hair sparkling in the rays of light from the big windows. "Yes, you do look pretty. But boys don't wear dresses."_

__"I'm not a boy."_ _

__

__

_She squinted down at him, a half smile, half curious expression changing her features. "But of course you are..." she stopped herself. "Well, you can be a girl right now. Now, no twirling so I can get this all pinned up."_

Cas reached out to touch the mirror and came back to himself. He missed his mother fiercely and those memories were his favorites. He had eventually had to give up that dress, but he had never forgotten it. As he had gotten older he started to try on his mothers dresses when she wasn't around. She had caught him a few times, but had never punished him or told him not to. She had only gently warned him to keep it to himself where no one else could see. 

No, that had only come after his step father had moved in. 

He shied away from those memories. He had come up here to feel better about himself, not spark bad memories. If only he had been born a girl. If only he could be like the butterflies and change shape and be a woman. Foolish. Foolish he knew, and yet no matter how many times he tried to put it aside, he just couldn't. 

The dress was now a little snug in the shoulders, he noted with a bit of dismay. He thought about all the time he spent chopping fire wood. There was hardly anything he could do about that right now. Otherwise he looked just fine. The style was a little old, and the silk a little discolored on the collar, but...

If he really spent time examining everything in detail it was all wrong. He closed his eyes and imagined himself in the gown of pale blue silk in the peddlers wagon, the fine lace and pearls sewn into bodice, a dark blue shawl around his too big shoulders to offset it and bring out his eyes. He held the image in his mind then opened his eyes to the truth that the mirror showed him, and sighed.

He ran his fingers through his hair and held it up in a makeshift style, trying to imagine it with ringlets and ribbons. Maybe some sparkling earring and necklace to offset the lace in the collar. He grabbed up one of the ivory combs in the basket and set one side of his hair up. Then he set the other side and piled his hair high. Remembering his mothers hair pin, the one she had said was made by angels, he set that through like a shining beacon. For a moment he saw himself there and smiled broadly, his dream for a moment a reality.

Then he heard a tittering laugh behind him. Whirling around he found Balthy and Gadreel stood in the doorway.

"Father! He's at it again!" Bartholomew called out. 

Castiel felt the blood drain from his face. Zachariah would surely beat him for this. "Please, don't-"

"Please, don't-" Gadreel mocked in a high falsetto. 

They menaced forward, Castiel stepped back, trying to get a feel for the heeled shoes he had on. Gadreel came at him from the left, with practiced ease he sidestepped, swaying his body back to dodge his grabbing hands. Bartholomew started forward, angry that he had evaded Gadreel. Castiel stepped back and around the standing mirror. Evading them became a dance, as he stepped and twirled away from them. He had them running into each other like fools until he led them around the room and he could get to the door. 

He fled down the stairs, glad that he was used to the stairs, even if the shoes did almost trip him up. As he passed the glass door of the foyer he realized he was still in his mothers dress. He grabbed the nearest coat from the coat rack and ran out the front door. He noticed that Zachariah's carriage wasn't in the courtyard as he flew past. 

Grace was eager to see him when he got to the stables. It took him a few tries to get onto her back in skirts, but he managed to get atop her and halfway out of the stables just as his brother entered. Kicking Grace forward he cantered past them, thinking the only reason he got away without them pulling him off was the fact that they were still stunned he was in a dress. They called after him with vulgar insults but soon enough he couldn't hear their whining voices. He was free.


	7. South Bend

Stopping in town wasn't an option, not if his father was there. Besides, it was the last place he wanted to be. Riding free with Grace's powerful legs beneath him was all he needed, his other worries pushed aside by the wind in his hair and the ground rushing past his feet. He rode her hard for a good long while, but soon slowed her to an easier pace. As he crested a small hill he slowed her to a stop. The vista before him humbled him enough to pause. 

Pink and white clouds streaked a perfectly blue sky as the sun set over the river valley. Cas hadn't been this far from the manor since he was a lad. South Bend, nestled against the rolling hills a few miles ahead was beginning to show little twinkling lights from street lamps and homes alike. Chimney's let out smoke here and there, but not every house as it was a warm summer evening. Behind him he saw the quickening darkness engulf the familiar. He wasn't going home tonight. Surely he could charm a stable hand into letting him sleep in a loft if he offered to muck the stables or some such thing. He looked down at his attire, the dress a little worse for the hard riding. He could always pretend to be a woman.

If only he were a woman, then maybe he could marry that man he had met in the woods and be gone from his blighted family. He grinned at his own foolishness. If one was going to run away from home they might as well day dream. First, he needed to procure shelter and perhaps a spot of food. 

South Bend was larger town than Haven. It sported a whole bevvy of inns and taverns, the docks that butted up against the river were a particular hot spot. Cas decided he might have a better chance at a cheap inn that might exchange labor for a stay there. 

So when he came to the main gates he took a left into the seedier district of town. The gates were actually more metaphorical than practical, mostly consisting of a shed for the guards and large wooden post and lintel with the towns motto carved into it. There were also curious burn marks in a few places as if some markings on the pillars had been charred off. He didn't pay this much mind as he was nodded inside by the lazy guard nodding off by the shed's door. 

He was glad not to attract much notice, and wondered if the man had just thought him a woman. This made him stand a little straighter as he led Grace further into the town. He walked past the first few taverns as they were full to the brim with sailors, music and light already pouring out into the street.


	8. Reports

Charlie and Jo sat head to head at the large table pouring over an atlas enthusiastically discussing some finer point of geography. Or something. Dean had no idea what the girls were actually talking about and had been glared at when he had deigned to intrude. So now he sat across the library looking over the latest stack of reports, occasionally glancing at them in confusion. Wasn't she here to marry him? Then again he was happy that Jo had found a friend, she didn't often like visiting dignitaries and it was important to him that Charlie fit in with the family.

Someone cleared his throat behind him, he turned to find the bearded figure of Bobby behind him looking stern. 

"What?" 

Bobby just lifted an eyebrow then handed him a piece of parchment. "Mysterious report from South Bend, your majesty. Of the type we saw last winter in Lawrence," This made Dean sit up straighter. Demons? He mouthed at him. Bobby nodded, frowning under his beard. Dean sighed. Being King of a land infested with monsters was a drag. He glanced over at the Princess. Hoping against hope her people's promise of aid against the dragons was legitimate. He already had his hands full. 

"Inform the huntsmen that we need a small group to ride out at dawn. I will be joining them."

"You think it's wise to leave this close to the ball?" Bobby asked. Still formal. 

Dean nodded to the table where his sister and his future bride sat, heads together. "Joanna has the hospitality part well in hand, and I am useless at party decorations. I think the palace can do without me for a couple days. Besides Sam can stay here in case of anything stately that needs to be taken care of."

"You aren't taking Sam with you?" 

"I don't need Sam at every hunt, Bobby. I need him here, safe and with his love. One of us has to live the good life." He added wistfully as he watched his sister charm his bride to be better than he could. 

Bobby snorted, but it was hard to tell what exactly he meant by it. Dean didn't care, so he moved on. 

"Send me a couple soldiers, the non-superstitious kind, and have them ready my horse to leave at dawn."

"As you wish, my Lord."


	9. Drag Show

"Ah, another one! Come my lady let me show you the way. Eva, take her horse to the stables!" The voice declared loudly behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulder. He steered Castiel forward, and he found himself too shocked to resist. What was he supposed to do after all? He had been mistaken for a woman and couldn't risk outing himself. Eva grabbed the reigns from his hands and he was taken into the bright lights of the inn.

This inn was busy but not brimming, with a modest crowd that was mostly crowded around the back wall where there was a raised stage. Unlike most taverns he had seen in his life this one seemed to have a healthy balance of genders, he saw as many dresses as he did trousers.

"Meg! Come here girl, I have another sad one for you to fix. Spruce up her hair a bit will you, perhaps a bit of color to those cheeks-" And he pushed Castiel away from him at a short round woman with an appraising look on her face.

"Well hello, beautiful," she drawled at him. "You might just work. Your eyes are pretty enough anyway. Come with me."

"Do you know what to do?"

Castiel felt like he didn't even know which way was up let alone what he was supposed to do. Meg was looking at him with a bored yet pointed expression that told him he was wasting her time.

"Yes," He gulped out, trying to make his voice higher, but it came out as a squeak. She rolled her eyes at him in frustration.

"Haven't you been to a show? It's pretty simple."

Castiel felt his face blanch. He hadn't even known before tonight that other men wore dresses. What else didn't he know about the world. The possibilities were staggering.

"No," He finally managed.

"Oh for the love of Pete," She threw up her hands. "I know this is amateur hour but you should at least know what the hell you're doing. Here, go over and watch the act before you. It'll give you a taste."

Cas stood in rapt fascination as he stood off to the side of the stage as a woman in shades of green, including her wig and jewelry danced around the stage, while behind the curtain a woman stood and sang for her. The woman in front's mouth moved along in easy precision to the familiar song, while the woman with the angelic voice gave her the words. It was like watching some magic spell. 

Caught up in the spell Castiel felt like he was doused with a bucket of cold water when band out front stopped and the song ended.

The woman in green came striding off stage towards him, looking him up and down in his pink dress and wig. 

"Good luck, new fish," came the performers deep baritone as she stalked by, winking at Castiel. Castiel swooned a little, finally understanding what was happening. This was a place for people like him. 

The singer walked over, as the crowd's applause died down. 

"Hello, cutie. What are we singing here?" She asked, eyeing him up and down. 

 

"I, uh…" Castiel’s mind had gone completely blank.

"What songs do you know, girl?" Meg asked with impatience. 

"Ummm," Cas wracked his brain trying to think of a popular song. "Tom the Barber?"

They both looked at him like he was simple, but sighed. "As long as ye know all the words, me lor-lady."

Castiel hoped to hell that the words would come, but who didn't know the oldest song in England? 

The singer then ran on stage and whispered down to the house bards and then ran back, giving them a nod and darting once more behind the curtain. 

"Okay, that's your cue," Came Meg's voice from behind him, pushing him from behind onto the stage. Castiel staggered forward, trying to catch himself from tripping over on his high heels and found himself on stage. 

Forty expectant faces looked up at him as the band began to play the opening tune of the familiar song. 

Castiel was glad he wasn't expected to sing, as he didn't think a sound would have passed his lips under the lights. But as the music came to the tune, he opened his lips and a woman's voice sang out. 

"As I looked over the castle wall..." The singer began and he sang along.


	10. The Request

Dean cleared his throat, trying to hide the stupid grin that threatened to take over his face. Something about his little brother being in love made him stupidly happy. He knew he would never have that, but if he could make sure his brother, and eventually his sister could have that he would rest well at night.   
Sam and Jessica turned towards him, both blushing. 

"You could knock." Sam said.

"The king doesn't knock." Dean said, grinning stupidly.

Sam rolled his eyes, "you might want to start."

Dean winked at Jess who rolled her eyes, patting Sam on the chest. "I'll leave you two alone."

"No, Jessica it's alright-" Sam protested but Jess just got to her feet, smoothing the lines of her skirts.

"One doesn't impede a King.” She leaned down and kissed Sam on the forehead. “Besides I have patients to look after."

Sam got the most sickening puppy dog look in his face as he watched her go. His hand holding onto hers for as long as he could. 

Dean sighed and walked over to the couch, sitting down. "Don't worry, you can marry her soon enough."

"If she'll have me," Sam said, eyes still on the door she had exited. 

"You're a prince, how could she not?" Dean patted his brother on the shoulder, trying to be reassuring. 

Sam looked down at his hands, "You know what our lives are like Dean.” He looked up at his brother, an earnest expression on his face, “How could I ask her to be a part of that?"

It was Dean’s turn to sigh and look down. "I'm sorry I had to ask you to come back from the University. I didn't want to."

"But you needed to." Sam agreed. "Thank you for letting me bring Jessica back with me-"

"Would you have come otherwise?"

"Probably," Sam said with a laugh, "but I would have gone back after her, when we were done."

"Couldn't have that, could I? This damned kingdom needs both of us," Dean said, clapping his baby brother on the back. 

"And what about you, brother? How are things going with our bonnie lass Charlie?"  
"She's like the little sister I never wanted," Dean grumbled, looking up at the ceiling. 

Sam snorted in amusement. "When is the last time you even looked at a woman? Maybe you just aren't letting yourself fall for her. I mean seriously you two are very similar."

Dean flung out his hands, "That's the problem."

Sam grunted in grudging agreement. "Any luck with the sword?"

"She is...hesitant to talk about it. When we even talk at all. Every time I press her she deftly changes the subject. Half the time I don't even realize we're talking about something else until an hour later. Honestly I just hope if she does agree to marry me, she will teach me that trick."

Sam nodded, thinking. "So do think she will marry you?” Dean shrugged. “You still want to marry her?"

Dean rolled his eyes, "I have to marry her Sammy. We cannot keep throwing men away trying to catch that dragon. We need that sword and I need to marry her to get it. End of discussion."

"Maybe you are right, political marriage isn't about love. Just convenience. Is she at least attractive to you? Can you see yourselves together for the rest of your lives?" 

Dean scowled at his brother. "Can you get your head out of your trousers and help me figure our brand new problems. As if dragons weren't enough."

Sam groaned "What did Bobby find now?" Dean just shrugged and told him to follow him. Sam followed him into the map room, his big brain already jumping on the new conundrum before Dean had actually laid out the entire scenario. Truly Dean couldn't be an effective king without his brother by his side. He didn't want to be king without his brother at his side. 

"Demons, or something similar. In South Bend. I'm taking a couple of men with me at dawn." He gestured to the map where little flags marked the route.

Sam furrowed his brow, "and me."

"No Sammy, not you, I need you here in case something happens." Sam met his gaze, narrowing his eyes. 

"You aren't leaving me here to become King are you?" Sam asked. 

"And leave you all the glory of killing those dragons? No, I don't think so."

"Come on Dean, I'm not letting you go without me. You need me."

"And Jessica and the Kingdom need you here. It will be a quick trip."

Sam looked at him like he thought there was nothing more idiotic than him at the moment. "As the prince of this realm and second in command of...everything in the kingdom, I object to sending the King on a hunting mission without properly trained backup."

"I told Bobby to get me some of the trained boys."

Sam folded his arms across his massive chest, "Do you honestly think that I'm not coming?"

"I just wanted your counsel, not your presence on the mission."

"Well too fucking bad!"

Someone cleared there throat and they both whirled towards the door. Charlie stood there looking nervous. "Your Majesty's."

"Oh, Your Highness," Sam bowed his head as to an equal. Dean hastily sketched a similar bow.

"Sorry to interrupt, I was in Lady Jessica's sitting room and I um... accidentally heard your argument."

"How much of the argument?" Dean muttered, but Sam was louder with his apologies. 

Charlie interrupted them both, "I want to go with you."

"What?” “Why? This hasn't got anything to do with the dragon problem." Sam and Dean both protested talking over each other. 

"I know, but part of my...mission here is to see that you are worthy of possession of the sword. I need to see you in action against the real monsters of the world. Not just skittish boars, but the real thing."

Dean blushed at the thought of his botched boar hunt. The blushing that had nothing to do with thoughts of his mysterious stranger, thank you very much. 

"I can't-" Dean said, his voice strangling in his throat.

Sam paused then said, "I think it's an excellent idea. You two need to spend more time together, and in these trying time she should see what she is getting into. 

Dean looked at his brother as if he had sprung two heads.

Sam continued, Dean not able to find his voice to object. "I'll go get things ready. Leave at dawn, brother?"

Before Dean could protest more, Sam was leading the lady, his lady, out of the map room and out into the castle hall. He was losing a grip on his entire kingdom.


	11. Revelations

Dean closed the door without even the slightest sound. He wasn't sure how he felt at that moment. He was strangely calm. Not like the calm that often took him during a hunt, or a good sword match. More like a puzzle snapping together in his mind that made him sort of feel at peace. This wasn't exactly a familiar or comfortable place for him and he had to put some distance between himself and them while his brain settled around this new ideas forming in his head. 

He had just been coming to tell Charlie it was time to go and he in his rush had simply opened the door to her sitting room and...

...They had been kissing. His sister and his soon to be bride. He thought that perhaps he should be angry. Then he was kind of angry. He balled up his fists at his side, letting the anger suffuse him. This wasn't acceptable, he had to break this up now before it tore everything he had worked for apart. He turned around and headed back towards his chambers trying to build up a fury. 

The door opened behind him before he got three steps away and Charlie stepped out, her long red hair loose around her shoulders. Her cheeks were slightly flushed and she smiled when she saw him. 

"Dean," She said, fondly. Fondly. As if she wasn't sneaking behind his back with his sister.

Dean stalked forward but when he stood within a few feet of her and saw just how happy she was, he couldn't be angry anymore. Without a word he stepped forward and gave her a hug. She froze for a second then embraced him back.

"Dean?" She asked when the hug went on a little long.

"I understand," he said and slowly released the embrace, though he left his hands on her shoulders as they parted. "I did hope we could make this alliance work, but I see now it can't."

Charlie's eyes widened in fear. "Why wouldn't our alliance work out my lord?" 

Dean frowned confused, "I know what I just saw, you and Jo-"

Dean found Charlie's hand over his mouth. "You saw?" 

Dean nodded, looking down at her hand in confusion. She let her hand drop, but didn't give him a chance to speak. 

"If it pleases you at all, my king, I was very much hoping our alliance could continue. I was going to tell you I will accept your offer of marriage after this excursion if all went right."

"But why? You obviously don't love me."

She looked at him with a little bit of pity, putting Dean's hackles up. "Since when is a political marriage about love." He was getting altogether tired of hearing this. 

"But you love Jo?" Charlie's eyes darted up and down the corridor again as if someone might overhear. Instead of answering she gave a curt nod, and a smirk grade her lips as if of it's own volition. "I think so. So please don't call off our arrangement." 

Sometimes Dean felt like a complete idiot, the truth hit him so hard. He had been so caught up in the romantic possibilities he had completely missed the point. This was why Charlie had agreed to stay. Why she hadn't been as cold as he had been warned and why she still wanted an alliance. She couldn't marry Jo. But she could marry him and stay in the Winchester Castle with him and have Jo at her side. 

Charlie nodded at him and his dawning of comprehension writ large all over his face. "I will be your wife. I will even bear you an heir if that is required. As long as your sister and I can be together. And I promise I will take you to Excaliber so we can defeat the dragons." She was pleading with him now, "You're my only hope'"

Dean looked away from her earnest face, swallowing the feelings that threatened to overwhelm him.

Taking pity on him she added, "And I am sorry." 

"No, Charlie, I am sorry for being such a dick. Of course you can stay." He closed his mouth before something stupid came out of him. He held out his arms and she collapsed into the waiting hug. He held her tight. "Who knew I'd end up with another sister."

She choke laughed into his vest. 

"We'll figure it out. I promise. For now it's time to go. We have demons to hunt."


	12. Songs and Demons

Castiel sang out, "...If I was a woman, as I am a man,  
My bedfellow you would be.." or pretended to lips moving along with Ruby’s perfect voice.

The song came to an end and he found himself covered in sweat and breathless as if he had sung his heart out instead of lip syncing.

The audience, to his astonishment started clapping and whistling as he exited stage left. 

Meg was there to greet him with a smile. "See, you’re a natural. Had them in the palm of your hands. A few nights of this and you’ll be a favorite, I can tell, and I'm always right. Right Ruby?" 

"You know it sister!" Came the dulcet tones of Ruby. 

Castiel stood at the side of the stage looking out onto the crowd. The next act started their show. 

His eyes roved over the crowd, there at the door was the man from the woods. He was with a short redheaded woman and a tall muscular man. They weren’t looking at the stage, but around the room as if searching for someone. 

Panicked, Castiel began to unpin his wig, moving quickly towards Meg, "Can you help me out of this? I saw someone I know..."

"I'll help you." Meg said, looking put upon. But with surprising ease and swiftness she had the wig, fake jewelry and dress off her. 

“I don’t have any men’s clothes… can I borrow something?”  
She handed him a cloth, loaded with cream. “Wipe of your make up, I’ll grab you a coat and trousers. 

Wishing this didn’t take so long Castiel removed as much make up as he could and Meg returned with a tan long button up coat and navy trousers. He quickly put them on ran out the stage door into the tavern, hoping and dreading at the same time that he might have missed his chance. 

He could see the man conferring with the tall one and pointing at a group of men near the kitchen doors. 

The group went into the kitchen and the man and his companions followed. The innkeeper gave them a funny look as they stalked over to the group, and stepped from out the bar, motioning the bouncer and another woman to follow him. 

Curious, Castiel followed too. He weaved through the dense crowd, a few of the rowdier ones pulled at him making leering comments about his performance. He glanced back to the stage and Meg was looking at him from behind the stage. He shrugged at her and he could see her shake her head and laugh at him. She still gave him an uneasy feeling, but she had been very helpful helping him dress and prepare for each show, and he was glad she was looking out for him.

He managed to push past the crowd and into the kitchen. Only the cook and his assistants were there, but there was some noticeable dishevelment, broken pots on the floor that hand contained a large amount of flour, an upturned pot of stew and the back door was open. They all stopped to look at him as he passed through, but mostly, he thought, to make sure there was no more trouble. He hurried out into the stable yard and was shocked to find the men in an all-out fight with the man from the woods, the taller man and even the short red head. 

The innkeeper and his goons were also in the fight, but Cas wasn't exactly sure whose side they were on. He wasn't even sure whose side he should be one, except for one thing. He knew he was on the man from the woods side.   
The man who was now being attacked by three men and they were rapidly receding out of the stable yard an into the darkened alley behind. 

He didn't hesitate he just ran after him. He heard the tall man shout after him "Dean!" But before the man could follow him the red head screamed. Castiel looked back and saw the girl sprawled on the ground and the tall one coming to her rescue. He also saw enough to notice that the barkeep and his goons were fighting off the men that had attacked the girl. Confident those two had backup he turned and ran full pelt after the one called Dean. 

He caught Dean's figure rounding the corner and followed on swift feet, his heels clicking on the cobblestones. When he came around the corner he found Dean standing off with three men. Cas stood frozen watching the man as he dodged and weaved between them, twirling his sword as if it was a part of him and generally being a bad ass. 

Castiel wasn't sure what he could do, so he pulled the long pin from his hair. The one his mother had said was made by angels, and maybe he could figure out a use for it. It was the only weapon he had. 

He held it tight in his hand and shouted at the men, but they didn't even look at him as they menaced Dean. Dean fought like a mad man, stabbing one with the sword then following it with the knife he now saw him wielding in the other hand. Castiel swore he saw a light flash from the inside of the man as he went down. 

The second it took to stab the man was enough for another to come in and knock Dean away. Dean staggered sideways, but managed to pull the knife from the dead man and slash it across the new assailant. It obviously hurt the man, but it didn't stop him and he menaced Dean as the other man flanked him. Castiel thought it was high time he too did something and stepped into the fray, raising the blade high and stabbing the last man in the back. There was a noise and flashes of light from the inside of the man then he went limp and fell to the ground. He looked over and saw Dean trapped under the other man who he had stabbed at the same time. 

Dean scrambled to his feet and stood back from him, rubbing his neck and breathing hard.


	13. Guardian Angel

The man lowered his odd thin blade, looking down at the corpse before him. 

"Don't worry, that wasn't a man. He was a demon." The stranger stood there, looking at him with not expression. Uncomfortable, Dean kept babbling, looking down at the other two demons at his feet. "I have to thank you again stranger, for saving my life."

"A demon," He finally stated, staring at the man at his feet as if curious more than confused. 

"You've seen one before?" Dean asked.

"No," He shook his head. "Mother always said my father was killed by a demon. I just... I didn't really think that was what she meant."

"Well, they are real, and you just killed one. I have to say though I didn't think anything but my own knife could accomplish such a task. Where did you get that blade?"

The blue eyes man looked down at his blade. "It was my mothers. She always said it was her favorite hair pin." He looked at the thing again, red with blood "Made by angels." He added, uncertain. 

"Who are you?" Dean asked his blue eyed angel.

He hesitated, dropping his blade arm to the side to look at him. "My name is," he paused as if he had to think about what his name was, "C-Castiel."

"Dean," he felt odd not adding a title, he had been doing so his entire life. It felt nice to be just Dean for once. 

"Dean," he said his name with reverence. Nodding he began to turn and moved into the thickening fog. 

"Wait!"

The cloaked figure turned to him and said nothing.

"Who are you?" he finally asked, not sure what he wanted from the man, but knowing he didn't want him to leave. 

"I'm the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition," He said.

Dean furrowed his brow, sarcastic bastard. 

"Okay, Castiel," he closed a little more of the distance, but kept a little apart approaching a skittish animal. "Why do you keep saving my life?" he asked softly.

Castiel hesitated then said, "You keep putting yourself in harms way." 

As if that was explanation enough. Dean couldn't understand it, the man didn't even know he was the King. What could he possibly see in him that made him want to help him. Without that stupid crown he wasn't anyone.

Dean stepped forward studying the man intently. "How do I find you again?"

Cas's blue eyes searched his as if trying to read his soul, "Why would you want to find me?" Though he too moved closer, and they were suddenly very close together. 

He looked up and their eyes locked once more like they had that day in the forest. Dean wasn't exactly sure why he did it but he leaned forward and kissed him. 

The man stiffened at the sudden intrusion, but after a moment relaxed, kissing him back with ferocity. They pulled apart, eyes searching and scared.

Dean started to throw up his walls, taking a step back, but the man knew and grabbed him by the shoulders. Keeping him close.

Cas brought a hand to Dean's cheek and they eased back into a kiss. Dean payed attention this time, to the softness of his lips next to his own. To Castiel's close shave compared to his two days hunt stubble. That he smelled of smoke and soap and herbs. 

"Saving my life again, angel?"

His face darkened with a ruddy blush. "I'm not an angel though...I'm just Cinders and soot."

"Who told you such lies? Anyone who looked in your eyes would know you are more than that. Besides, every cinder has a spark of flame inside."

Castiel's eyes seemed to flash at his words, his back straightening a bit. 

"See?" Dean jested, touching his cheek. Castiel leaned into his hand, still looking lost. 

"What do you see in me?" He asked. 

"Someone I wish to know, in every way possible." Dean didn't know the words were coming from his lips till they were out. It was his turn to blush and wonder at his own hopelessness in this situation. 

"This isn't safe, Dean."

"I know, I'm sorry I got you mixed up with this demon business-"

"Not that...I mean... I can't- we can't be together my Step father...my brothers... they can't see me like this or they will kill me."

Dean felt himself go still. Could he be seen like this? His mind reeled back with monstrous thoughts he wanted no part of.

Even Castiel thought that real demons were less of a threat than the true horror of what he was. What they were. Then he thought of Charlie and Jo and his heart melted under his own harsh self hate. No. It wasn't wrong. It was as natural as breathing to want this man before him, the more time he spent with him the more he was sure it was right. 

"Listen Cas. Whatever this is...it isn't up to them. It isn't up to your Step father to decide who you want to be with. It's up to us."

Castiel's eyes dilated, and he loosened his muscles, leaning a little more into him. "You want to be with me?"

"More than anyone else I've ever met."

"Me too," He managed, his voice shaking. His hands tightened around Castiel's waist, but he had stiffened and pulled away. Under his breath he heard Cas say, "They've found me."

Only then did Dean hear the sound of hoof beats. His hunters had returned. 

"I will find you," Castiel told him, his blue eyes dilated and sparkling. Dean couldn't stop looking into them, "I will be at the ball at Winchester Castle in two weeks."

"I'll be there," was all Dean could think to call after him, feeling bereft and cold without his angel in his arms. 

Castiel disappeared into the fog so suddenly it was as if he flew away. Dean could see the skirts under the cloak as he fled. Something in his chest tried to panic, but he calmed himself. The person he was falling for was like no one he had ever met, and he was in love. 

Baby huffed out a breath into the chill air as the others arrived and he held up a hand to her neck to calm her. "Dean! Dean are you okay?"

Dean looked around him at the three dead demons scattered about the small courtyard, shaking off the emotions Castiel had left in him. "Better than them," Dean snarked, indicating the three dead demons, but really still looking into the darkness where his angel had run. "You two get the other one?"

Sam nodded as he dismounted, coming over to check up on him. Charlie sat on her mount her face pinched as she clutched her surely broken arm.

"You killed three demons single handedly?"

Dean shrugged, not wanting to reveal his secret. "I am just that awesome little brother, and don't you forget it."

Sam looked at him like he did when he was sure Dean was lying. Which he was, but there was no way in hell he was going to betray Castiel to him. Not now. The man had been positively terrified his step family would catch him out here, and he wasn't going to let any rumors start from a loose tongue. It may only be his future wife that heard, but he wasn't taking chances. 

His future wife. He looked up at Charlie, who gave him a little wave with her hand that wasn't obviously attached to a broken arm. 

"We need to get that splinted," He said, instead of any of the conflicting thoughts that were now crashing around his head. 

Charlie gave a rueful look. "I do think that would be for the best." She admitted.


	14. If I were your woman

Castiel wandered back into the tavern, and went backstage to find Meg. He could still feel Dean’s lips on his own and wondered at the sensation. 

“Did you catch up with your friend?” Meg asked. 

Castiel nodded, sitting down in the make up chair. 

“Thank you for letting me borrow these clothes.”

“No sweat, there are always clothes around here of some sort. 

“You have somewhere to stay, sweetie?” Ruby asked coming to sit next to him. Her long black hair shining in the lamplight. 

“No- I -uh, I ran away...”

“That’s what I thought. I’m sure with what you brought into the house Nick will let you stay in an empty room.” 

“Especially if you agree to do more show, you got a lot of cheers out there.” Meg put in. 

So Castiel stayed the night at the Cat and Rooster tavern. Meg and Ruby fawned over him, teaching him how to apply make up and arranging his hair and wigs. 

His performances weren’t enough to pay for everything, however, so when he wasn’t performing, he helped around the tavern. Mostly by washing dishes, cleaning the tavern after hours and mucking the stables. 

After awhile Castiel had acquired enough coin to purchase some used, but serviceable day clothes, and at night they dressed him up in ballgowns of every color. 

It felt magical. Castiel loved being in gowns and pretending he was a woman. In fact, more and more the dresses stayed on well after the act was done. He started to wear his hair differently, and to choose more feminine clothes from the many costumes he borrowed during the day. Every day he looked in the mirror and saw the person he wanted to be. The woman he wanted to be.   
After the days marched on Castiel started to wear skirts during the day and asked the other performers to call him ‘her’ and ‘she’. Soon thoughts of her old life of Zachariah and stepbrothers and the manor house seemed like a nightmare.   
Instead he dreamed of his demon hunter Dean from the woods who would come find him someday and they would live happily ever after. He would take her in his arms, and know Castiel was his woman.


	15. A Match Made in Heaven

A Match Made in Heaven

The town was mostly dark, here in the docks area only every other block had a street lamp that was lit. It was getting towards the time of night when you could almost say it was the next morning. 

Dean wasn't really sure why he was here. Baby was breathing a little heavily from that last stretch of galloping. Dean was still as confused as before the ride that was supposed to clear his head. 

Jo's voice still rang in his head like a bell. Her bitter condemnation still clawing its way through his brain. 

“How could you let her get hurt?!” 

No one else could hurt him with words quite as well, except maybe Sam, or his late father. 'Are you under the impression that family's supposed to make you feel good?', he heard Bobby's voice in his head. Family's supposed to make you miserable.

He chuckled under his breath. The first feelings that weren't guilt despair and self recrimination he'd felt in days. 

He steered the horse towards the street where the demons had attacked and then further up the street towards the bright lights of a tavern tucked away from the other tavern rows that littered the little river town. He felt his stomach tie into a knot but forced himself to take his mount around the back to the small stables.

The stable lad was no more than fourteen, and eager to please when he recognized him from the week before.

"Well met, sir." he said sketching a bow. "I'll take good care of Baby." Even remembering what he called his mount. Impressive. Dean smirked at the boy and tossed him a couple coppers.

"You know what is waiting if you do," The boy grinned, the coppers disappearing into a pocket with practiced ease. He then led the horse to the back of the stables. Dean spent a minute straightening his sleeves and brushing horse hair from his trousers. But really he was just stalling. What the hell was he even doing here? Unguarded, no one knew where he was. If he was ambushed and killed no one would even know what had happened.

He shook off his doubts and marched out of the stable. 

He walked across the little courtyard and in through the back door of the inn. The kitchen staff grumbled at him, but he held up his hands in the sign of peace and pushed on through to the main room without incident.

The place was a bustle with activity, much busier than the night last week. He saw that there was a small crowd of women around the side of the stage. And there among them he caught a glimpse of Castiel as he disappeared behind the curtain with the others. 

Dean started forward to go after him, but stopped himself, suddenly nervous. As he stood stock still a hand fell on his shoulder, he whipped around to find a short man in a well tailored black suit. 

"One musn't block hallways, young man," he said genially, but with a hint of mockery.

"Apologies, sir" Dean muttered stepping aside to let him pass. 

The man paused when he was a step in front of him and looked back over his shoulder at him. "Manners. How...unexpected." His eyes roved up and down in a rather indecent way. "Enjoy the show." And he pushed past the costumed ladies in the hall, his small frame disappearing into the crowded tavern.

Feeling odd about the encounter, Dean decided it was probably going to be the least strange encounter of the evening and he followed the lead into the main room. 

The noise in the tavern was loud, and raucous. Men in women’s clothes and women in men’s clothes and people who he wasn't exactly sure which side of the spectrum they were on milled freely. Most of the crowd was gathered at the bar, trying to get the several barmen and barmaids for attention as they poured ale after ale from three large barrels from large tappers behind the bar. 

Dean hadn't been in a tavern for pleasure since before his fathers death, back in the days when he would sneak off on his own. It felt good to push through the crowd, to have people jostle him without fear of touching royalty, of being able to put down coin for a simple ale straight from a communal tap. 

Music was playing from backstage and the curtain was moving slightly from some activity where one couldn't see. 

He made his way to a table out of the way, but in view of the stage and gulped down a good quarter of a mug of the stuff and sighed out a little bit of the tension he had been holding. Five more of these and he might even relax. 

The music suddenly got a little more serious and loud and the curtain started to pull back revealing a woman in an elaborate costume sitting on a gilded chair. Her wig was pale pink and coiffed as well as anything one would see in court. 

The music fell into a familiar tune and she started to sing. Except she wasn't really singing he thought, as she was obviously actually a he. 

Dean was mesmerized. The man sang in a perfect alto, and the audience quieted and some sang or mouthed along to familiar if somewhat bawdy words. He felt his cheeks heat as she stood and started dancing across the stage, strangely aroused by the show. A barmaid came by just as he was draining the last of his tankard and he signaled the want of another. 

She nodded and winked at him. 

Three acts and several beers in, he was trying to politely disengage with another man asking after him. He was trying not to be forceful, but this one was being particularly insistent. 

"Leave the man be, he isn't here to be bothered by you." Came the familiar voice of the short man he had met in the hall. Without further invite he pushed the man aside, and pulled a chair up and sat down. 

Dean felt uncomfortable, but was grateful to get rid of the other fellow. 

"Can I help you?"

"Trust me, you don't want that fellow, he's been to the south seas and is positively miasmic with syphilis."

Dean took a double take of the retreating sailor and felt himself shrink a little despite all the stimulation. 

"Thank me later," The man said, then continued, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't scared off before the show was over. I think you'll like the next act. She's new, but she has a lot of promise. Natural really."

"Can I ask who you are, sir?" 

"Ahhh. Name's Crowley. Tailor and dress expert. I provide dresses for some of the ladies here, and know a discerning customer when I see one. Your clothes seem particularly fine and I wanted to make sure you got a glimpse of what I could provide, were you in the market for ladies attire. I make them in all sizes."

Dean suddenly understanding why the man had been eyeing him earlier suddenly relaxed. The man was a hawker and was just trying to drum up business with the wealthier clientele. 

"Well then, thank you for the advice with our sailor fellow and I will definitely keep an eye on the tailoring of your finery."

"That's all I ask sir. That's really all I ask." He slapped a hand down on the table and stood up with a slight bow. "Enjoy your evening, and if you do wish for my services in the future look for my wagons at the market." With that he left. Dean shook his head, but the music had swelled again and it was time for a new singer to come on stage. 

It was Castiel. Somehow this came as a shock. Even though he had seen the man here the last time, seeing him in a full gown and wig on his head and make up like the ladies before that was inviting and gaudy at the same time. 

Dean felt his chest tighten and he waited with baited breath as the music came around and Castiel started to sing. Or pretend to sing as whoever was back stage. Dean didn't care, his mind fully taking in the spectacle. 

The barmaid came by with another tankard, but he didn't even see her as he watched the angel who had saved his life dance and sing across a stage. Near the end of the show Castiel's eyes seemed to find his in the darkness and he missed a few lyrics in astonishment. He picked it up again a second later and finished the show, but rushed off stage before the curtain had fully closed. 

Dean managed to get across the room and to the stage door just as Cas was running out of it in a hastily donned tan coat, his wig still attached to his head. 

"Castiel, wait!" He wasn't going to let the man disappear on him again. He had to catch up. 

He was halfway up the block before he caught up. "Wait!" 

Cas seemed to realize he wasn't getting away and stopped running. 

Dean circled around him. "Hi," was all he said. This seemed to confuse Castiel and Dean took it as a good sign. They stood facing each other and the man stepped into his personal space. His face flushed under the make up and looking deeply into his eyes. 

"Hello, Dean," he said in his gravelly voice. Dean smiled, thinking of the lovely voice from behind the curtain he had last seen coming from his lips. 

"You aren't easy to find, angel." 

"I don't mean to be easily found."

Dean's eyes flicked to the man's lips and back to his eyes. Trying to take him all in, but completely taken in by his sparkling blue eyes. 

Then he leaned in and kissed him. It had been all he could think of all week. The pillowy lips of the man had troubled his sleep until he woken in the night and snuck out of the castle to see if he could find the man again. 

They closed the little bit of space between them and Dean snaked his arms under Castiel's coat, pulling him close he could feel that he still wore the corset and dress. 

Castiel seemed to realize the same thing, and pulled away breaking the kiss. "I don't- I mean, I don't have to wear a dress. I just-"

"I saw you. Up on stage..."

He tried to pull away. Dean held tight to him. 

"You looked so beautiful up there. You looked comfortable...like you did in the woods that day when you saved me from that wretched boar. Strong and sure of yourself."

Castiel shook his head disbelieving. "I was a mess up there...I kept messing up the lip syncing..."

"No one noticed, you looked perfect. Like an angel," Dean insisted, not sure why he was so determined to let him know. "My angel."

He started to walk away from him. But Dean called after him. "Wait, Cas...please please explain this to me."

Castiel stopped, and Dean caught up to him. "Nevermind, it doesn't matter. That isn't what I care about. I just wanted to see you again."

He looked back over his shoulder towards the street with the bawdy tavern. Then he started walking, slowing down when Dean didn't come. Taking the hint he walked up beside him and they walked along in silence. Dean could tell he was struggling to say something. 

It took ten minutes before the man opened up. "I've only been doing the show a week, but..." he let out a long breath, "I've never felt more like myself." Dean smiled, having just thought the same thing about being anonymous in a tavern had made him feel normal for once. "Not since my mother and father were both alive." Dean also nodded to that, a lump forming in his throat thinking of his father and of the mother he had lost so long ago. "When I put on this dress...and the make up and wigs... It's like I'm really me. The me I was supposed to be." With this last statement Cas finally turned to him and they stopped there in the middle of the mostly deserted street face to face. 

"Can I ask you something?" Dean asked, Cas nodded, "do you ever wish you were a woman?"

Cas looked down at his feet, his little slippers dirty from the walk along the dirt road "Sometimes when I'm up there I think I am a woman." 

"You could be my woman," Dean said softly, touching his cheek. Cas kept his head bent. "Would you like me to call you she, instead of he?"

Cas's head came up quickly, his blue eyes searching Dean's with rapid little movements, his face serious. "You wouldn't mind?"

"Not if it made you feel more like you."

Tears welled up in Castiel's eyes. "I would like that," he said simply, looking away, visibly trying to master his tears with a few sniffs, and a tightening of his grip on Dean's arms. 

"As you wish, my lady." And he kissed the tears from her cheek. 

Cas smiled crookedly at him and held out his arm for his to take. They laughed and he took his ladies arm in his and they walked slowly along. As they came down a long parkway, the street wasn't busy, but there were a few other couples arm and arm and a band of men, obviously drunk and heading back to whatever riverboat they came from.

"Thank you Dean. I've never met anyone who...understood before. If my brothers saw me in a dress they would kill me. Yet you look at me like I'm perfectly normal."

"You are normal Cas. Or...no one is. I mean. I think this is your normal," He said in a stumbling rush. 

Cas, slowed to a stop, Dean looked up just in time for her to kiss him. Soundly. Then Castiel walked forward again and Dean held on for dear life. Heaven help him this Castiel was something else. 

They decided to detour down a street so they could take a little longer. It was a mistake. When they came out the other side of the alley two men flanked them.

Before Dean could even react he was being pushed to the ground. When he looked up over he saw the other man grabbing Castiel from behind by the arms, dragging her backwards up the street. 

Dean felt the roar leave his throat as he pushed himself out of the dirt. A short man laughed at him and kicked him as he tried. "Stay down, pervert. Keep your queer hands off our brother."

Dean felt rage and shame surge through his body as he tried to get up again, but was kicked in the head and the world went sideways. He could hear Castiel's voice begging his brothers to stop. The sound of flesh hitting flesh and hooves stomping in the dirt. With a few deep breaths the world stopped shifting wildly and he managed to push himself up onto his elbows. 

Dean watched helplessly as the two dragged Castiel along the ground and hauled him up on the bay horse he had seen Castiel ride in the woods. Grace. They roughly tied him to the pommel and then mounted their own horses on either side roughly slapping Grace on the rump to set her galloping. They whooped and hollered and all galloped away. 

Dean watched as if he were watching the sun set for the very last time. His one bright hope vanishing. How could he have let that happen? Cas had told him that his brothers would kill him if they found him in a dress. 

How had he let two men jump him like that? He had fought monsters for gods sake. Granted they had knocked him over the head first, but he still felt like he had failed. Failed to keep his angel safe. 

Another wave of helplessness overtook him as he realized he had no idea where Castiel and his brothers lived. He didn't even know their surname, or the brothers first names. 

The only thing he knew for sure was that Castiel wasn't from South Bend. There were five other downs within a days ride from here, not to mention the City.

He spit out some more dust from his mouth, his jaw aching from the punches, his chest sore from the kicks to the ribs with every intake of breath. He got to his feet, only groaning a little and leaned against the nearest building as he spit dirt out of his bruised mouth. 

Jo was going to have even more reason to hate him when he got back to the palace. Not all of these bruises would be easy to cover up for the ball the next night. 

The ball. 

Castiel had said he would be at the ball. This finally gave Dean heart enough to pull himself off of the ground and start running. He half ran, half staggered all the way back to the stables, flinging the stall door open to greet his Baby. His horse stamped her foot eager to ride once more, even with only the few hours rest. He patted he neck and quickly set about saddling her. 

The stable hand came in, rubbing his eyes blearily as if waking from a nap. Dean reached in his belt and pulled out a couple silver pennies, tossing it in the air to give him time to catch. 

"Thank you for taking such good care of her." He told him as he rode away. The boy had no time to do more than gawk at him as he rode away, staring down at his good fortune with complete disbelief.


	16. Preparations for the Ball

Wakefulness came slowly to Castiel. Several times she came into consciousness only to slip away again almost immediately. When she did finally awaken, she wished she hadn't. Every part of her ached, and when she finally shook off the vestiges of darkness the pains sharpened into real hurts. Her head throbbed from the temples, her arms felt bruised where she had been roughing grabbed. His wrists were raw and bloody from fighting the ropes and his hips and belly and ribs were aching from the rough ride tied to the back of a horse. 

Dimly she recalled kicks to his legs, and a cuff across her ears for insolence when they had returned his home. No, not home, to the manor house. This was no longer her home. 

Castiel pushed herself up and it took all of her strength to even raise himself up to a sitting position. She rested against his wooden headboard, finding new bumps scrapes and bruises with each new movement. Her mouth was painfully dry and a quick perusal of the room told her they had left her no water or food. It also revealed her Step Father sitting in the darkened corner of the room glaring at her. She couldn't help her reaction and startled at his presence as if he had just appeared there. 

"Zachariah," she said, finding that speaking was hard through a swollen lip and a dry mouth. 

"Oh, on a first name basis are we? What happened to Step Father." His eyes flashed with menace and Castiel had to fight the urge to shrink away from him with all her willpower. Realizing she really was at his mercy, she lowered her eyes to her lap and said, "Step Father." 

"That's better," he said as he stood. "You notice I let you sleep in today, but do take note that tomorrow that will not be an option. In fact you will be up an hour earlier than before from now on. When we wake I want breakfast on the table..." then he proceeded to list in detail how her entire day would be filled. From dawn, till dusk. Castiel sat there stoically, concentrating more on not throwing up than really listening. It was nothing new, the litany the same as before with a few additions just for the torture it would bring. 

"Is that understood, son?" She flinched at being called a son, both because she knew now she was not a man, and because being his offspring was the most vile thing she could think of. 

Castiel turned to the man, looking him in the eye. She still feared the man and what he could do to her, but now a large part of her didn't care. "I understand, Step Father." Putting the emphasis on Step. 

He narrowed his eyes at her, "You will be dressed and in the kitchens in a quarter hour or I will send your brothers up to fetch you. Is that clear?"

"As day, Sir." 

"Good."

The door rattled on its hinges after he slammed it shut behind him. Castiel listened to his heavy footed descend down the rickety tower stairs. 

Swinging her legs out of bed she attempted to stand up, but failed on the first try. Her aching muscles just not able to function yet. Every step took twice as long as usual, and every movement hurt.

She found a splash of water left in the pitcher and drank it down instead of using it for a much needed cleaning. Then she turned to her stand mirror and looked herself over. 

Her face was beginning to purple at the temple where she had been struck and her arms were a mass of bruises. She undid her tattered and bloodied dress and assessed the rest of the damage with cold thoroughness her mind gone numb at it all. She swallowed as she looked herself over. Then she stopped torturing herself, and turned away. She pulled on her soot stained rags, and steeling herself went to meet her family for breakfast. 

It was as bad and worse than she feared. Every step she took to keep in line was met with derision and scolding and often a poke, pinch or kick for her trouble. No matter what she did there were always more chores, most of them pointless or redundant. Still every night she climbed the stairs to her tower. 

The first night, sore and exhausted and feeling a hundred years old she lit a candle and stared at herself in the mirror. All she saw was a tired boy with soot stained trousers, five o'clock shadow and tangled hair. The bruises on his face were angry and swollen after a hard days labor. He looked miserable. 

Lights caught her eye out the window and she went outside to look. There on the horizon she could see Winchester Castle, all lit up with lamps in anticipation for the coming ball. She could just make out the pennants waving in the breeze. All she wanted to do in lay down and seek oblivion, but a spark of inspiration overcame her. She would go that ball and she was go on her terms. Her family could tear her down all they wanted, but she would be ready in a week. 

She turned from the window and went to the loose floorboards, pulling out her parents clothes and spreading them out on the bed. She squinted at them and knelt down to feel the fabric. It was all too much. She tried to think of the future. To think of showing up at the ball in her mothers gown, regal and feminine and happy. And maybe just maybe meeting the handsome stranger Dean again. But she couldn't do it. Not this day, not after everything that they had done to her. She started to cry, heavy tears that soaked through her fathers suit and through to the bedding, cried until she fell into a deep sleep. 

She awoke to the rooster crowing. Her neck was sore and her legs were asleep from falling asleep half on the floor. Today she was even more bruised than the day before, but she wasn't going to let that stop her. 

So that day and all the rest of them after for the week she went downstairs before dawn, and did all that was ordered and every minute she could sneak away, and late at night she stole up the stairs and started to work altering her mothers dress. 

Her mother had been a small woman and she was of a completely different build so it took a complete reworking of the thing to make it work. She used her fathers suit as the shell, and her mothers dress as the front and middle. It was elegant, a deep green bodice and sleeves, with a pale green and cream skirt. She pocketed odds and ends from her brothers discards, and even took some pearls of her mothers that were in her step fathers rooms. Each night she brushed out her hair to shine to keep it supple and pinned it up, then pulled it back in a warriors tail during the day hiding it under a dirty cap to keep its look from his families eyes. 

By the night of the ball the dress was finished and as they time approached for her family to go, she could think of nothing other than surprising them with her painstaking project. They would have to let her go. 

Her brothers got ready, helping each other into their new suits and primping like dandies. They had her rushing around to the last hour fetching those cuff-links and these handkerchiefs in lavender not mauve and Castiel wanted to scream, knowing how long it would take to get properly dressed. Finally they dismissed her and she rushed away, water pitcher and a new wedge of soap in hand. She scrubbed the days sweat and dirt from her face and hands, getting her underarms and feet last to preserve the water as best she could. She slipped on the corset and underskirts she had gotten from the tavern and managed to rescue from the refuse after finding that's where his step father had disposed of it. It had taken a lot of scrubbing to remove the stains and smell, but she had managed it alright. She had shaved away her stubble in the afternoon after lunch, but before the boys had started to bother her with help getting dressed, so her face was smooth as she started to apply her ancient cosmetics. 

She wished she had Meg and Ruby there to help her with her face, but South Bend was a long way's away and she only had an hour. She did her best, and it was enough. Maybe it wasn't the best she could look, but for the first time in a week she felt like she belonged in her body. Her hair was a simple affair, that her nightly brushing and curling with rags had allowed and she had it pinned with her mothers silver pin and a couple combs in no time. Then she pulled on her gown and completed the look. Green velvet and cream silk and lace, her mothers pearl necklace. She then slipped on her mothers gold thread slippers, lifting her skirts to admire them on her feet. 

"Hello, Castiel," she said to the mirror, curtsying her voice low and gravelly. "Hello, Dean," she said back, lightening her voice to a more feminine tone. She shook her head at her own foolishness. Who knew if he would even be at the ball. But she had told him she would be there. If she didn't show up...

She brushed some imaginary dust off her dress just as she heard the hired carriage arrive. Just in time. 

Steeling herself she flung open the door and rushed down the stairs. Her family's backs were all to her as they were leaving out the front. She called after them in her high light voice. 

They turned and stared at her shock. 

"Wait for me."

"Castiel?" Zachariah asked, in a lilting tone that was both questioning and dangerous.

"You said I could come if I could find something suitable to wear."

His eyes roved up and down her form as Castiel cautiously descended, some part of her thinking if only she could get in the carriage then she could get to the ball. "Did I?"

Castiel swallowed back some bile and nodded. Shrinking a little under the intense scrutiny.

"And you really find this acceptable?" Zachariah asked, distastefully as Bartholomew stepped forward with a sneer. 

Gadreel stepped forward flanking her from the other side. She suddenly realized she was effectively surrounded. "I mean really, this lace is discolored and obviously twenty years out of fashion, Gadreel sneered, grabbing her collar and pulling viciously, the hastily made stitches tearing away easily. Castiel tried to step back, but Bartholomew was grabbing at her skirts. "And these silks are wrinkled beyond any I've ever seen. That too was pulled from the seams. Gabe then grabbed at her necklace, the pearls flying in every direction as the string broke. Then they grabbed her sleeves and bodice. 

"Boys!" Zachariah's voice cut through the assault like a cracked whips. "Boys. Calm yourselves, you don't want to work up a sweat before you even start dancing."

Castiel had backed herself up to the stairs railing, panting even though she hadn't actually fought. Her dress now hanging from one shoulder, her neck aching where the necklace had been and her hair in her face. 

"Clean up this mess, son. I don't want to slip on pearls when I get home in the morning." And with that they sauntered out of the house, only looking back to laugh at her as she slumped against the railing completely. 

She didn't let the tears start. Not with them watching. As soon as they were out the door she ran into the kitchen and out into stable yard behind the house. She ran until she came to the central fountain throwing herself on the ground where she finally let the tears flow. 

She cried until she felt like she had cried enough to overflow the fountain. Her body becoming chill in the night air. 

The sound of slow plodding hooves and wagon wheels on cobblestone finally made her look up after she realized they were getting louder. There, entering her families stable yard was the dress peddlers wagon from town. Its jaunty paint job and matching horses instantly recognizable. As if she needed more humiliation this night, now the peddler was here to make her pay her debts for damaging the dresses weeks ago. Truly the universe wanted her demise this night. 

The peddlers wagon door opened and the short little man stepped out, somehow making his walk down the three raised steps look regal. He had changed his merchants robes for a deep black doublet and hose with silver embroidery, a veritable fortune in clothes. 

Cas wished she could raise herself up, but she just felt so defeated. She braced herself for the mans scorn.

"So who hurt you?" He asked, almost sounding bored. 

Confused Castiel squinted up at the man, surely she was going to ridicule him. "My step brothers..." she rubbed her neck where Bartholomew had broken the necklace, "They-" Cas gave an involuntary shudder and felt the tears threaten to spill again.

"Don't have any sense of style," The man finished, looking her up and down. 

"I very much doubt it was the style of dress that had them at my throat," Castiel said, tears threatening again. 

"No doubt," The man said, his mouth twisting into a smirk. "Now are you just going to lay there or can we get on with it?" he gestured towards his wagon.

Cas furrowed his brow, "Get on with what?"

"Well, I doubt very much you want to go to the ball dressed like that." 

"I can't.” Castiel shuddered. “If I go my brothers will kill me. Besides,my dress is ruined."

The peddler smiled like a snake. "I guarantee when I'm done with you, they wont recognize you. Besides I very much doubt that is what you wanted to wear anyway." 

Something about the way he said it made Cas wonder if he could read his deepest secrets. He doubted it, but he wanted to believe, "I don't have any money." He wasn't so good at believing anymore. 

"So I've gathered," he rolled his eyes as if this was the most boring conversation ever. He held out a hand waving at him to get up, "Follow me."

Castiel looked back over her shoulder down the path her family had taken towards the palace, picked herself up from the fountains edge and followed the strange man to his wagon. 

He worked quickly. He had her out of her tattered dress and into a new one before she even knew what was happening. He then sat her down wiping away her tear streaked make up and applying his own unguents and powders. He put up he hair, adding oils and things to make it shine, setting the pins and combs in with adept flourish. 

"That should make you nicely disguised against your families prying gazes. No doubt you are the last person they will even be looking for. Plus with their head start they will no doubt be into the cups." He motioned drinking. "Shall we?"

"Oh, one more thing," Then he took her muddy and dirt stained gold thread slippers, the seam where she had tried to make them big enough for her feet.

The man looked over the shoes, “I’m afraid I don’t have time to fix this particular mess. Hold tight.” And he dissapeared into the back of the wagon, coming back with a pair of slippers made of golden glass. Castiel looked at the shoes in awe and slipped them on her feet. They fit her large feet perfectly and without even a struggle. 

Cas just looked at him, still completely bewildered by the sudden turn of events. "How did you...?"

"I am a tailor, I know a woman's size at a glance. Come."

Then he brought her outside where a couple of strange men were unhitching the horses from the wagon and attaching them to her families old carriage, complete with new wheels and new window curtains.

"How did you..."Castiel trailed off overwhelmed by all of this. 

"I have my ways. Only one thing left I suppose," And he brought down the peddlers wagon wall, revealing a tall stand mirror. The light was now beginning to fade, but it was more than enough to see by. 

The peddler was right, she would never be recognized now. It was more than she had even let herself dream. She didn't even recognize herself. None of her clumsy ministrations with her mothers cracked and crumbling cosmetics had ever gotten her to look like this. Not even with Meg and Ruby’s help has she ever looked so close to what she had always wanted for herself. 

"Is this some sort of magic?" Castiel asked. 

Crowley chuckled, but didn't answer. 

"Why are you helping me?" Cas asked, still baffled even after being under the man's ministrations for an hour. She looked at him through the mirror.

"Cause I'm your fairy Godfather," Crowley's sarcastic responses were getting more and more testy. 

Cas frowned, "I'm not stupid. What do you really want?"

"Look, you can have the clothes, the carriage, and more for the night, but when I would ask for but a small favor.”

"What sort of favor?"

"Don't worry about that! The ball has already started. You look like a million bucks and your brothers will never recognize you. Now are you going to go, or regret it for the rest of your life. Yes or no?"

Cas looked down at her dress, then back at her reflection. She was more beautiful than she thought possible. More than she had ever dared dream. There was only one way to answer, though she had an awful feeling in her gut about it. 

"Yes."


	17. The Royal Ball

The Ball

Castiel had never been to the palace before, she found himself staring up at the brightly lit palace in awe. He was dreadfully late for the ball so there were no other guests leading up to the doors. Passing over the giant mosaic of a pentagram he paused and looked back. Crowley stood smirking from his perch on the steps of his wagon. He waved Castiel forward. Cas lifted her skirts and started the ascension to the palace doors.

"Welcome to Winchester Castle, your name madame?"  


The doorman inquired as Castiel approached. He stopped short, realizing he couldn't use her real name, otherwise her brothers and step father would know it was him. He squinted up at the festooned walls, the lamps blazing yellow in the night. "Anna of Haven." He told him, trying to make her voice higher than usual. 

The man inclined her head, and as Castiel stepped forward he announced in a thunderous voice that filled the air. "Miss Anna of Haven." As Castiel walked out to the grand stair landing every head looked up. Cas had never had anyones attention, let alone hundreds of eyes on him. He flushed under the gazes, feeling paralyzed, but something inside him refused to run away. Despite every fiber of him wanting to do just that. He forced her glass slippered feet forward, taking the steps carefully and surely. He had ascended the stairs to her tower attic a thousand times, this was no different. He wasn't going to fall, he wasn't going to embarrass himself. Herself. For he wasn't the serving boy Castiel, today she was Anna of Haven, like her mother. She didn't need her step fathers name or titles. She would find her own life away from them. Maybe she would meet her mysterious Dean and they could dance until dawn like they did in the stories she read by the hearth each night. 

As she descended she scanned to crowd, most still watched with curious looks trying to figure out who she was. Truly the gown Crowley had given her was a work of art. Tiny jewels set in the fabric sparkling as she moved. Her eyes fell on him as if he were the only one there. He stood near a tall regal looking man up on the dais, who was surely the King. His clothes were finer than anything Castiel had ever seen. 

She couldn't help that her heart leapt in her chest and that her breath quickened, just the sight of that beautiful face and those sparkling green eyes that instantly connected with hers. He drifted towards her and she to him. Castiel felt like her feet moved of their own volition. Perhaps these silly glass slippers were enchanted. 

He stopped short of her, bowing low. Castiel returned the curtsy.

He was grinning at her when she straightened back up. "May I have this dance, my lady?"

Castiel was about to protest that there was no music, but Dean waved his hand and the orchestra started up. The crowd around them parted and created a circle. Castiel felt positively slow as it dawned on him what all this meant. 

That the Dean he had saved in the woods was Dean Winchester. King of the land. Emotions fought for dominance in her head, but the one that came out was laughter. She threw back her head with it as Dean stepped up and put a hand on her waist and took the other. Castiel mastered herself and managed to start the dance off on the right foot.

He danced masterfully and Castiel found herself so attuned with him that she too danced well. Never in her life had Cas had so many eyes on her, and never had she cared so little. All she would see was Dean. Dean whom he had rescued from a bore, who he had fought off three demons with side by side. Dean who had taken a beating to try and save her. Who had called her a she with no trace of hesitation or mockery. 

Castiel had known it from the first time they met, she was in love with this man, and always would be. 

"You dance beautifully."

"I am only following your lead, your majesty."

Dean smirked, "You noticed?"

"It is kind of hard to ignore every eye in the castle on us, yes."

"Oh, they don't matter."

"That is hard to believe. Also isn't there a certain princess who will be a little upset by our dancing?" Castiel asked, suddenly remembering that Scottish royalty was here to supposedly marry the King. At this Dean smiled broadly. 

"And up on politics. Trust me Castiel, she cares not whom I dance with..." and with this he twirled her around as the music came to the end of the song. There was some general applause from the crowd, and then the music started up again and a dozen couples flooded the dance floor.

The Scottish Princess was standing chatting closely with Princess Joanna, her deep green plaid dress a marked contrast from much of the finery. It didn't detract from her look though, only heightened her look. Prince Sam was far taller than he remembered from glimpsing him across the courtyard the night of the demon attack in South Bend and he was confronted with several strangers curious stares. 

King Dean waved at the Princesses and they both waved back with wide grins. Prince Sam seemed to be laughing at them, but in a good natured way. The dowager Queen smiled fondly from her seat and placed a hand over the stewards, who looked at her startled. 

Then Castiel spotted her step family at the edge of the dance floor and stiffened. Dean took notice right away at her changed demeanor. 

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing, can we go somewhere else?" Dean scanned the crowd with a keen eye, trying to see who she was afraid of, but her brothers had melted into the crowd. Castiel felt her chest constrict in worry that her brothers were stalking him. 

"Come, let's take a walk," he said finally. 

Castiel nodded, falling back into the role of pretty maiden at the ball. Dean didn't lead him out to the gardens as he expected, but down a side hall. Two guards stood at the ready to tell guests to stay in the main hall. 

Dean nodded at them, "Donna, Doug." He acknowledged them as he passed. The woman grinned at him, then went back to attention when she realized her break of protocol. When they were a ways down the hall he heard them both break out in stifled laughter. 

"Don't mind them, newlyweds." Dean explained, "I let them have the same post so they could still enjoy the festivities."

Castiel didn't say anything, still not comfortable with the attempts at a woman's voice, but also not knowing what to say to all that. Was he trying to impress her? 

"I looked for you," Dean said eventually as they came onto slight widening of the hall in a circle. Like outside there was a large pentagram set in the marble. Here the star was in black marble with gold veins surrounded by a creamy white marble. 

"You did?" She asked, suddenly feeling even more warmth for the man. 

"Everywhere, but I didn't know where you were from."

Castiel ducked her head. "It doesn't matter where I'm from. I'm here now."

Dean smiled deeply. "Yes you are. As I hoped you would be. Prayed you would."

He led her deeper into the castle till they came to thick double doors, the carving of the Winchester crest with the protective star behind it. Two guards stood on either side of the door, a man and a woman. They nodded at their sovereign but said nothing as he led her inside. 


	18. The Love Scene

His chambers were immense, bigger than her families entire living area. The furnishings in the first room were ornate and well taken care of, but he hurried past all that and into the second door on the right. This was his bedroom. It was more spare than the other chamber. This room too had a large star on the floor and there were an inordinate amount of weapons hanging from the walls and scattered about the room. 

"Do you want some ...ummm wine? Whiskey?" Dean asked, holding up glass bottles on a counter in the corner. 

"No, I'm..." Castiel didn't know what she was, "I mean I've never had...uh whiskey?" He decided to just go with it. 

"It's a Scottish beverage. Charlie... I mean princess Charlotte brought some when she came...It's really…amazing." And he shoved the crystal glass into her hands. There was a finger full of amber liquid in the glass and Castiel downed the thing in one gulp. It burned all the way down, but not unpleasantly. It tasted of oak and peat moss and liquid gold. 

"Oh." He looked down at Castiel's glass with a little dismay, then recovered himself "More?"

Castiel shook her head as the warmth seemed to spread from her middle, outwards. She set the glass down, not entirely sure what to do, then she heard the strains of music coming through the window and she grabbed Dean's hands making him set down his own glass. She set his hand on her bodice and the other outstretched. Taking her meaning they began to waltz. As the whiskey settled into their systems they both loosened up and they started to talk. Really talk as they danced. Neither one of them could keep their eyes off of each other. 

The song ended and Dean pulled off his coat and laid it on a chair. They took another shot of whiskey and danced again in the soft candle light. This time when the music stopped, they stopped next to the bed. Castiel tried to drop her hands to her side, but Dean held them tight and pulled her close to him, in a different way than the closeness of dancing. "Cas..." he whispered in her ear, sending a tingle across her whole body. She felt like a taut string. 

His hands deftly untied the stays of her dress, and as hard as it had gone on, it fell away from her easily. He unhooked the corset and set her ribs free then he turned her around to kiss her. He leaned her back into the softest bed she had ever lain on, it felt like it was made of a mountain of feathers. She could see his erection through his hose, and felt her own response beneath her underskirts. Her breath ragged as he straddled her. 

He bent down and kissed her softly on the lips, his tongue darting into her mouth, then trailing down to her jaw and neck. Castiel shivered underneath him as he hiked up her skirts and slid his hand up her leg. For a moment she worried that he would suddenly be repulsed with what he found, but when his had reached her penis, he gripped it with assurance and eagerness. He stroked her with ease bringing her back up arching, then he shifted his body so he could lift her skirts out of the way, then he bent over her and took her up in his mouth swallowing her up. 

She had never felt anything like it. His mouth on hers like warm white light, like a hot bath, like heaven... She gasped out, her voice high and begging. He kept her just at the point she thought she might burst and let her go. He pulled off her shirt, his chest bare and beautiful, even with the faint line of scars that crossed his body. He noticed her gaze. "Dangerous work being King," he said, jokingly. 

"Dangerous work being alive in this world," Castiel rejoined, pointing out his own scars and still healing bruises. His hand came up to trace over the bruises on her ribs, then he cupped her all but non existed breast, giving it a squeeze. "No one will ever hurt you so again, my lady."

Castiel sighed out at the promise, for the first time in years, feeling like someone actually loved her and wanted her safe. Tears leaked out of the sides of her eyes, and she pulled his hose, setting his erection free. "Let me." She asked her King, as she sat up pushing him to the side so she could take her own turn. He made his own gasp of pleasure as she licked up the front of him and swallowed in the tip, then taking him all in, down her throat. 

She had dreamed of this for so long had seen it done in back alleys by prostitutes on paying men. But the feel of an actual cock in her mouth was more than she could have imagined. Her own dick was hard, almost throbbing after Dean's work, but somehow she felt herself grow harder as she worked on him. Dean was calling her names and pulling off her skirt (not an easy task with her erection in the way) and they panted and moaned together. She felt him peaking, and pulled off of him as he had her. 

"Cas..." he pleaded. 

"I want you inside me."

His green eyes, already dilated went almost completely black. "I have oil..." he moaned out. 

Castiel nodded. 

He managed to get himself up, taking a moment to fully remove his hose. "Lay down." He told her and Castiel took her remaining garments off and lay down while he clanked glass around. Then he was over her, holding a bottle in his hand. He poured some on his hand then applied it to his penis, moaning under his own hands. Castiel watched with rapt attention, her mouth suddenly dry. 

"Open," He said, kneeling on the side of the bed between her legs. She opened her knees wide. His slick warm hands glided first over her erection then down, coating her balls and then lower. He bent low and before she knew it, he was licking at her. 

"Your vagina, is so good." He moaned at her, and for a while she was convinced she did have a vagina. He licked at her until she couldn't hold it together, then his fingers took over, slipping inside easily with the oil. One finger, then two, then three... she made him stop while she breathed to calm herself off the cliff. He added more oil, then he slowly plied her open. 

"You ready?" He asked, his voice tight. 

"Yes."

Sliding his fingers out, he pulled her to the edge of the bed, standing up, then he lined himself up and pushed inside her. It was difficult, but after a minute he was all the way in and they panted together at the triumph. Then he started to move, slowly at first and then with vigor. It didn't take long for them both to climax. Castiel came undone first, coming all over her own belly while Dean worked furiously. Then he gave a mighty thrust and came inside her. 

Dean came and lay down beside her, cradling her in his arms. They fell asleep that way, but only for a few minutes. The clock tower chimed out the time not ten minutes later, waking them. It was eleven. They stared into each others eyes as the last bell rang through the air. 

"I hate to say it, but I have to get back to the ball. Jo will kill me if I'm not there for the ceremony." 

Cas blushed. "I didn't mean to keep you-"

"I'm glad you did." He kissed her forehead, "More than glad. Ecstatic. Come meet my family."


	19. Dragons Not Invited

After some awkward clean up Dean helped Castiel back into her dress and even helped her fix her hair. Somehow all those years with his sister had actually taught him more than he knew. There was something about lacing up the ribbons on her back and repinning her curls that was almost as intimate as what they had shared in his bed. As he finished the bow at her waist he bent and kissed her on the back of the neck, feeling her shiver under his touch. She reached out a hand and squeezed his tightly as she took it breathing out a ready sigh. 

"You ready, angel?"

Castiel nodded, smiling crookedly at him. 

As they exited his chambers, the guards nodded and winked at him. Castiel blushed, but Dean squeezed her hand in reassurance and they hurried back to the ball. Donna and Doug were now on the same side of the hall slow dancing to a rather upbeat song coming from the hall. They startled at them as they walked by, but Dean just grinned and waved them to stay as they were. Donna nodded at him with appreciation. 

The merriment had obviously gone on splendidly without them and they came in on a spectacular display of Bobby and Queen Ellen dancing their hearts out alongside Sam and Jessica. Dean walked them around the back of the crowd to the dais and they watched the display from the best seats in the house. 

"That's my Steward dancing with the Queen," Dean told Castiel, not wanting her to feel left out. "He's been pining after her for a year."

"You don't mind?" Castiel asked.

Dean laughed. "I set them up. Couldn't stand it. Bobby and my Father were close friends, the three of them were always close. Bobby was there for her after my fathers death, but neither of them would admit how they felt about each other. I finally had to sit them down and tell them it was alright with me and Sammy."

"They look happy," Castiel said watching them with her head tilted to the side. 

"Who is the woman with Prince Sam?"

"Jessie, Lady Jessica. She was the one thing I couldn't ask my brother to leave behind when I pulled him back here from the school. He told me it was either bring her or leave him."

Castiel smiled. 

"I don't see the Princess Joanna," Castiel said, searching the crowds.

"She's probably with Princess Charlie, no doubt they've wandered off by now."

"Why would..."

"They're like us." Dean said simply, and Castiel's eyes widened with understanding and awe. "They've been key in helping me see...understand what I was feeling for you. I cannot wait for them to meet you."

Castiel blushed, and Dean leaned down to kiss her. When Dean looked up he found his brother grinning at him. It was Dean's turn to blush and he felt the bubble of wild joy suffusing him. Finally things were going well. 

The scream that rent the air made everyone turn. The band stopped playing and the confusion set in. Guards rushed into the ballroom from the garden. 

"Your majesty's come quick!" 

Dean, Sam and Bobby converged on the guards more guards had rushed in from the wings and the guests stunned silence had turned into a crescendo of sound as the crowd began to panic. 

"What's happened?" Dean demanded. 

"The princess! A great winged creature snatched her up," the guards voice was high with fear. 

The guard didn't wait to be told just started moving to show them the way. The garden was full of activity, guards rushing every which way, herding cloistered couples out of hiding and into the palace. The guard took them up a side path. There they saw Charlie in her deep green dress kneeling next to a torn up patch of ground holding what look like a torn piece of cloth.

She met Dean's eyes as they ran up to meet her. "I tried to save her! But the dragon was too strong." She sobbed out falling into his chest. Dean looked up into the sky as if he might be able to see where she had gone. The sky was clear but for the full moon and a drifting of thin clouds high up in the atmosphere.

"Joanna..." Dean breathed out, his mind catching up to the activity. He looked over at Sam who had a sick look on his face.

Charlie was sobbing into his chest clutching the fabric of his doublet like she might drown if she let go. Dean looked down at her and realized she wasn't unscathed. Her arm red with blood.

"You're hurt!"

"I-I'm fine- it doesn't matter, Jo-"

Sam stepped in and swept Charlie off her feet and into his arms. He exchanged a look with Dean telling him that he would take care of the princess. Charlie let Sam hold her, clutching her bleeding arm, tears still running down her bloodless cheeks. 

"Take her to her room, make sure she is well guarded. Jessica can you tend to her wounds?"

"I'll look after her."

"No," Charlie shouted as they tried to take her away. "Wait! You will need my help."

The bell tolled the first stroke of midnight, adding to ominous atmosphere that was settling on the castle gardens. 

"You're hurt!" Dean protested

"And Jess will tend to that, but first, take me to the stables, I have something for you. Sort of." Sam looked at her like he was just going to haul her away, "Please, Sam." Sam, undone by puppy eyes turned and started walking quickly towards the stables, instead of the castle. Jess at his side, trying to tell Charlie to hold her wound closed to stop the bleeding. 

Dean, blood surging with adrenaline followed, holding out a hand for Castiel, only to find she was gone. He stopped and turned a circle trying to see her blue gown in the crowd of people in the garden. 

He pulled Bobby aside. "The girl. Castiel. Where did she go." Bobby frowned, looking around. 

"I don't know. She was just here."

"Find her. I have to see what Charlie has for us, but find Castiel. Do you hear me?"


	20. Rescue the Princess

"Okay, there is a reason we haven't just given you the sword." Charlie said, her face pinched. 

"And that is?" Dean inquired when she didn't elaborate. 

She looked over her shoulder and waved her personal bodyguard forward. "Get the box."

The man hurried off into one of the empty stalls of the stable and they all heard a rumbling as a cart was rolled into view. A bulbous shape was visible under the tarp strapped tightly to it. "Remove the tarp."

The canvas tarp was pulled away and there in front of them was an enormous boulder with a sword sticking out of the top. Dean exchanged a look with Sam, who chuckled. 

"Are you serious?" Dean asked, exasperated. 

"I told you there was a reason." Charlie said, her voice rough and high with desperation. 

"But didn't you just use it against some dragons?" Bobby asked, his brow furrowed. 

"Well, yes, but you see the idiot who took the sword out to kill the dragon decided to put it back and now it's stuck. Again."

"Has he tried to get it out again?"

Charlie looked at her feet. "No. But that isn't really possible."

"Why not?"

"Well, when I rejected him as a suitor he decided to join the crusades. He's halfway across Europe by now."

"So how did he get it out?"

"I don't know. That thing was stuck fast, he came along and it seemed to just slide right out. Legend says one who is chosen by the gods will pull it from the stone."

"Once in a generation," Sam muttered. Dean blanched. Sure that his brother knew the lore and was right. 

"Well, nothing for it then," and he climbed up on the boulder and gripping the handle tight pulled with all his strength. 

Nothing happened. It didn't even budge a centimeter. He tried again, neck straining and getting red in the face, but it was useless the blade might as well be a part of the stone. 

"Let me try," Sam sighed, climbing up as Dean jumped down, looking at his hands. Not so special after all. 

Three more people tried to much the same luck, Charlie explained in more detail that they had tried every warrior in the clan to pull the blade and no one had been successful.

"Well, it's time to think outside the box. Bobby, have the blacksmith come with some strong backed men and picks. If the sword won't come out of the stone, than we removed the stone from the sword. 

It took an hour, and five men with picks to chisel away at the boulder. But finally they had half the rock in rubble on the floor. Charlie looked like she was going to be sick as she watched the desecration of her holy weapon. The sword still stood at the same angle in the boulder, despite most of the boulder being detached, The blacksmith waved his apprentices aside and went into aim a blow to the side of where the blade must lie to he could dislodge it. 

His back muscles heaved and he swing down his pick with all his might. The blade suddenly free fell to the stones. Everyone gathered around and gasped. Dean ran forward and saw the blade, still deeply wrapped in stone, but free from the boulder lying on the ground. 

He picked up the blade, the tip heavy with granite. It weighed about four times that of a broadsword. He gave it was test swing, feeling like he was swinging around a shot put in a giant sling. 

"This'll do" Dean said. Everyone looked at him like he was mad. 

"I could chisel it out a bit more, sir." The Blacksmith told him. 

"No time. This took too long as it is. Everyone get ready we ride in an hour." he lifted the blade awkwardly above his head, "Tonight we hunt down these bastards and get our people back."


	21. Midnight

Dean's hand gripped Castiel's hand hard as they rushed after the guards and through a maze of halls out to the royal gardens. People were rushing about in the torchlight, guards hurrying distressed looking couples out of the maze of hedges trees and statues that made up the space. They came to where Charlie was laying on the ground sobbing. 

Dean let go of her hand as he went to comfort the princess. Bereft of Dean's presence, Castiel suddenly felt out of place and stepped back into the circling crowd. Then took another step and another.

The bell tower tolled and Castiel realized it was almost midnight. Crowley had told her to leave at this time or the dress would be full price with interest. Melting into the crowd slowly, unobtrusively she made her way up the gravel paths and hurried inside with the rest of those who had witnessed the dragon attack. 

When she entered the hall she spotted her brothers, and then scanned the crowd for Zachariah. He was only a few feet away drooling over some woman with too much jewelry. Gadreel spotted her first, pointing her out to Bartholomew.

The sixth bell rang out. She had to leave. She pushed through the crowded dance floor, the room echoing with hundreds of voices swapping rumors. The farther she went the more outrageous the rumors got. She had to skirt around the edge to keep as far away from her step brothers as possible and by the time she got to the hall stairs the ninth bell was going. 

A shout from the hall she had come from made her look back, Bobby the steward was pointing after her as a contingent of guards was rushing through the onlookers. Cas hiked up her skirts and ran up the stairs taking three at a time like she did when running to her attic room. 

They had no hope of catching her, and the door guards had been pulled to the garden so she ran out of the castle unhindered. Down the outside stairs she went. As she crossed the pentagram she heard more voices behind her and as she turned to look her foot pulled out of her slipper. She paused to go back and get the fallen slipper, but saw two guards coming from the left path and just kept running, half hobbled as she limped down the stairs. She silently thanked her siblings for all the years they had chased her up and down the stairs. 

Below her the carriage with the peddlers horses was waiting as promised.

She paused at a landing to take off the one slipper still attached and ran the rest of the way, jumping into the carriage as the horse was snapped into a gallop. She watched the guards gather in the lamplight calling after her as the castle quickly dwindled out of sight.


	22. Here be Dragons

"Which way?" Dean asked as a cloaked figure emerged from the forest. 

"We've found it, sir. A cave to the northwest. We've tracked the path and can lead you."

"Bobby, send the bulk of the soldiers to the north, another contingent to the southwest around the hill and await a fire signal. I'm taking this lot with me to the cave. I don't want to alert him to all of us."

Bobby nodded. "Be careful, you idjit." He clapped the King on his back and rode back the waiting soldiers to give out orders. Dean motioned for Charlie and Sam dismount, as he unwrapped the dragonslayer. 

"These creatures like closed spaces and privacy, if we show up with an army, he'll sneak away and likely kill Jo before he does. We have to quiet and sure. I'll lead with the blade, but anything you can do to distract the beast will be to our benefit. They like shiny things."

"Come on, the more time we waste the more danger Jo is in!" Charlie admonished, sobering Sam instantly. 

They crouched outside the mouth of the cave, the night air tinged with the smell of sulfur and brimstone. Dean's arm dipped, the tip of the sword dragging towards the ground. Already the leaden thing was making his arm ache and he'd only been carrying it for an hour.

Sam stood at his back, crossbow at the ready, and Bobby stood at the far entrance with the gangly scout, Garth who had shown them the way. That one was a complete buffoon, but he was also strangely good at his job and had pretty much led them straight to the monsters lair. Dean would remember that.

 

Charlie was shivering around the entrance behind Sam, her adrenaline had left her and he could see her clutching at her arm. No matter how many times he had told her to go back and wait with the wagons she had flat out refused. She was going to see this through and there was nothing anyone could say that was going to sway her.

Dean made the signal and they stealthily poured into the cave.

It was dark, but somewhere a soft orange glow emanated giving just enough light to see the outlines of rock. The cave went up a ways and then around a corner, once around the corner the light was more visible flickering against the wall as it sloped downward. They crept along slowly, stopping at any sound as they descended till they came to a large cavern with two wall mounted torches.

A cry went up from somewhere deep inside the cavernous system and Charlie covered her mouth as they all recognized Jo's voice. Dean put his hand on her shoulder, giving her a firm but understanding look. She lowered her hand, nodding until she mastered herself. Letting out a little huff of air and clenching her fists at her side.

But they were all visibly shaken. Dean waved his hand forward motioning everyone to the back of the lit room towards what turned out to be an actual wooden door with iron bound hinges. They all fell into position as Garth opened the door. The smell of sulfur and smoke blasted their senses, but the corridor was clear and they pushed their way forward into the dark.

It took the better part of an hour to traverse the caverns, the closer they got the more they heard Jo's cries for help. The farther they went the warmer it got and eventually they came to an opening where molten rock pooled in a chasm below them. The great room had many entrances and from a strategic point of view looked to be about the worst place for them to stage an attack. But they had little choice.

They continued forward and were ambushed from the side with the sound of flapping wings. Sam was knocked to his knees, and Charlie jumped aside, flattening herself against the damp wall. Dean took an awkward swing with the stone tipped sword, but it simply arced through the air without finding purchase in the beast. 

"Begone, mortals," Hissed the dragon, as the light that had filled the room went suddenly dark. Dean would have bet his soul that the creature could see just fine in the dark. The light had been a trap to lure them inside. 

It was a hard fought battle, in the dark. At one point Dean hit himself in the head with the stone tipped sword in a wild attempt to fell the beast.

In the end Sam and Charlie managed to get a torch alight and they blinded the creature then took him down with a mighty blow. 

They found Jo, along with other girls stolen from the villages, alive locked in a dingy cell, worse for wear, but alive. Garth sent for more help and they made getting them out their first priority. 

Charlie all but collapsed at the sight of Jo, her golden hair a mess of dirt and leaves, and her exquisite gown clawed up. 

They hugged and cried and refused to be separated as they were led back into the fresh air above. 

Garth slapped a hand across Dean's shoulder as he watched the girls go. "Well done, sir." He beamed. 

Dean looked at the man sideways, but didn't admonish him. Bobby was right, the little guy grew on you.


	23. Life as Usual

As the carriage pulled into the manner courtyard Castiel stiffened.

"Why are you bringing me here?" He asked Crowley, who had been waiting in the carriage for her.

Crowley turned to him with a withering look. "I told you I'm only your fairy godfather. Your night is over. Now back to your real life."

Castiel frowned feeling suddenly cold all over. Was that all she got? One evening cut short by tragedy?

"Oh don't pout, blue eyes. It's more than most get," Then he looked at her expectantly. Cas looked back. "The dress?"

Cas furrowed his brow looking down.

"It was a loaner, numb nuts. Unless you suddenly have a fortune to spare?"

Feeling completely put off, the nights events suddenly falling off in tatters Castiel stood, embarrassed, twisting her arms around her back to try and undo the stays of the dressed. Her fingers brushed where Dean had kissed the back of her neck after lacing her back into her dress and she felt herself flush all over. 

Crowley grunted at her and motioned for her to stop. "Just stop, stop before you tear the gown."

He helped her out of the gown, but only after they had moved into the wagon. His lackeys made haste to unhitch the mounts from the borrowed carriage while they went inside. Crowley made disparaging faces at the dirt on the hem of her gown. He took the necklace and earrings, and the ivory combs. Made her wipe her face with a few more snarky comments.  
“Where is the other slipper?”

“It, uh slipped off on the stairs,” Cas explained.  
Crowley grumbled, examining the other slipper for damage. 

Before he kicked her out the door he handed her slipper, “Not worth anything without the pair.” He had grumbled. Then he handed him his mothers necklace, expertly repaired and in one piece.

Castiel gaped at him. "It's missing a couple pearls, but I did my best." He then handed her another bundle, tied up in brown paper with his mothers gold thread slippers, also mended, on top. "I also fixed your dress, and threw in and old one I was going to donate to the poor."

Swallowing hard to keep back tears at the unexpected kindness, she took the bundle and murmured a thank you, her emotions making her dizzy. 

"Go, child before your family comes back.” 

She nodded and rushed down the little suspended stair and into the stable yard. Castiel hurried to the kitchen door, past the now cold hearth and up to the attic stairs. Early morning light filtered through the boarded up windows and the ever present draft swirled up her bare legs.

Cas hurried to the hidy hole, fumbling with the board as she tried to pry it up. She took a moment to admire her mothers slippers one last time and placed it in the box with the bundle of gowns. She then nestled the golden glass slipper on top of it all. 

She managed to get the boards back in place just as she heard her step families carriage pull into the courtyard. She quickly changed into her old clothes, though she wore her tan coat from South Bend not her old day coat. She hurried to the mirror, grabbing a rag and dipping in the cold water left over from the night before. She scrubbed her face, wiping away the magic and letting go of the last of the magic that had made her real.

And then Castiel was standing in front of her tarnished mirror feeling smaller than ever before under a tan coat. Just plain old Castiel once more. 

Cas didn't even hear them coming up the stairs, but she had stopped caring about what they would do next. Zachariah entered the attic room unannounced, slamming open the door. Castiel stood perfectly still and refused to turn around, even as her gut was roiling and her legs felt like they wouldn't hold her up anymore. 

"What have you been doing all night, crying in front of a mirror?" Zachariah sneered as he came in. He had obviously been drinking, face red and his gait unsteady. 

Castiel wiped her face once more. "What do you care what I've been doing?"

"I won't have a nancy boy as a son. Do you hear me? Breakfast better be on the table first thing. I don't care if you got no sleep."

Castiel agreed, but was confounded. He knew his brothers had seen him at the ball. Surely they had told on him. 

But in the morning it was business as usual. His father seemed none the wiser that she was the mysterious woman from the ball that the Prince had been with all evening. When he finally confronted Gadreel his brother didn't seem to know what she was talking about. 

"Look CinderAss, give it a rest. You didn't get to go to the ball. It doesn't matter anyway, the King met a woman and you are no match for that one. I saw her as she was leaving, even Bartholomew was impressed."

Castiel walked away from that conversation completely flabbergasted. Could it be she had gotten away completely free?

At night after the chores of the day she stared up at the ceiling reliving Dean's touch. Even if that one night was all he ever had, it had all been worth it. No matter what the peddler might ask of him. 

Or at least so she thought before he came asking for it. In fact his request came on the same day as the King's Decree.


	24. Another Royal Decree

"What do you mean, you couldn't find her?" Dean, still in his dirt and blood stained clothes, had barely even stepped inside the castle before getting the bad news. 

"My King, I had men go after her, but she fled. Her carriage was waiting for her at the bottom of the stairs. We sent riders after her, but somehow they eluded us. The only thing we retrieved was her glass slipper that she lost on the stairs." Bobby held out the glass slipper to him. 

Dean felt like his head was going to explode. Possibly due to the braining he had received from fighting the dragon, but this was just one more blow. 

"Why did she run?" 

"The guard did note a couple of men who took notice of her. It seemed to me them she was fleeing."

"Did you catch them at least?" Dean asked, sighing. 

"No, your majesty," This from Donna, who was hovering nervously next to Bobby and Jody. “In our haste to catch the girl, they too slipped away. No one seemed to know who they were."

Dean pinched his nose.

"We'll find her, Dean," Sam said, placing a hand on his shoulder. The familiar feeling bolstering his confidence and making his path clear. He was King, god dammit. 

"Then I make a decree. You shall take this slipper to every town and village in my country, every maiden is to try it on until we find the woman who I met at the ball. If the shoe fits that woman shall be my bride. Any who stand in her way will be brought in for questioning."

"Dean-" Sam started to protest, looking at his brother with increasing worry. 

"I have spoken," Dean grunted. 

Bobby and Sam exchanged looks, but Bobby hurried from the room without argument, motioning Garth and Rufus to follow him. 

"Dean..."

"What Sam?"

"Are you sure this is wise?"

Dean turned from the window to look at his brother, all puppy dog sad with concern. He blinked back some tears that were threatening. "After all that has happened, all I wanted was to find her still here." Dean felt the tears starting to threaten. 

"Dean, go to bed, get some sleep. This will take time. But we will find her." Sam's words were reassuring, but Dean couldn't let go of the clawing feeling of worry that grasped him.


	25. If the Shoe Fits

Castiel was pulling water from the fountain for the mornings washing, when she heard footsteps behind her. It was Crowley. 

"What are you..."

"I told you I would come back for a favor, lass."

Castiel nodded, looking around for signs of her family. No one was in sight. 

"What is it that you need me to do?"

Crowley put his hand behind his back and sauntered closer, looking smug and confident. Castiel, no longer intimidated by the man, but wary none the less. 

"No doubt you will hear of the King's Decree soon, so I will just fill you in. It seems our King met a woman at the ball, but has misplaced her. Some say she was wearing a gown of superior beauty in a spectacular blue and was wearing glass slippers." Castiel felt herself blush. "Now, you know and I know that they aren't going to find this girl, so I thought I had better check in and see what you need."

"I thought you were here for your favor."

"I am, I am. But as my favor requires access to the palace, I thought I might be of aid in that matter as well."

"What is it you want Crowley?"

"Nothing much, just...the sword."

"The dragonslayer sword? How on earth am I supposed to get you that?"

"It's now free of the stone, I figured your close ties to the crown could gain you access. All I need you to do is smuggle it from the castle."

"Crowley, look at me. I am a servant in my own home. I cannot even get out of the manor, let alone to the palace."

"I can help with that. Come, let me get you ready, the royal guard are almost here, I made you a dress, simple yet elegant. Aren't you tired of running around in trousers again?"

"And there will be no new favors asked of me for this?" Castiel asked, hearing a horn blowing in the distance. 

"I will consider this part of our original bargain." Crowley agreed. 

Castiel nodded, following the man to his wagon parked a little ways down the lane. 

Castiel looked at himself in the peddlars mirror, a simple blue gown with a white as snow kerchief for her hair. He looked like his mother, a tear formed in his eyes and her nodded. 

"So, what do I do if I get into the palace?" Castiel asked. 

"Just...do your best." He then told him where to take the sword and hide it once he had it in his possession and how to let him know it was there. Then the man pushed him out of his carraige and clicked his horses and rode away.

Castiel watched the spot for a while, feeling less generous about the man than ever before. He suddenly felt like every decision he had made since meeting the man had been the wrong ones. Sighing, Castiel quickly hurried into the house and up the stairs, thankfully hidden from his family, and waited as the sound of a large entourage galloped towards the manor. 

~~~~ "We have no daughters here."

"Please, sir, we were told to let no house go unchecked."

"I tell you, I have two sons."

"The registry lists a third child. A Castiel. Is this not your daughter?"

Bartholomew and Gadreel snickered. Bobby shot them both a look of complete disgust.

"He," the troublesome man emphasized the pronoun, "is the first born of my late wife from a previous marriage. He is not my son."

"I will require the entire household to be in attendance, sir."

"Fine," The officious Zachariah turned and bellowed, "Castiel!" 

They all heard a crash, and then rattle of a door far above them. When Castiel finally emerged at the top of the stairs she was dressed in a simple gown of a bygone era, her hair was brushed to a glossy black shine and her face was perfectly made up with smooth rosy cheeks and pink lips. She descended to an awed crowd of soldiers and the gape faces of her step family. Bobby clapped a hand on Alfie's shoulder in anticipation. 

"I thought you said Castiel was your step son" Bobby said flatly. 

Zachariah's face was red and blotchy with rage. Bobby motioned for the nearest guards to restrain the man. "Castiel, I am here by order of the king to have every lass in the land try on this glass slipper to see if they are his lost dance partner from the ball. Would you care to have a seat, young lady?"

Castiel beamed at him, nodding solemnly as she took a seat. Bobby propelled Alfie forward with his charge, but as he passed Zachariah stuck out his foot tripping the boy. The glass slipper flew through the air and came crashing down on the tiled floor surrounding the fireplace. Everyone gasped. Bobby's face fell in horror, even though he was sure he had found the one, Dean's decree had been specific. The murmurs started to grow to a roar. Bobby shouted everyone to order, but before he could shout to have the detestable man removed, Castiel cleared her throat. 

"Sir," her voice broke, but she tried again, pitching her voice a bit higher, "Sir. It's alright, you see, because I have the other slipper." And she pulled the matching glass slipper from her apron pocket displaying it for all to see. Bobby stepped forward and knelt in front of her, gently taking the slipper from her hands. She held up her foot and he gently slipped it on. 

It was a perfect fit.

The guards cheered. Castiel's step family looked ready for murder. 

"Alfie, clean up the broken glass, there. My lady, can you accompany me to the palace?"

Castiel nodded, removing the slipper and linking arms with him so he could help her stand. 

"Guards, see that the lady Castiel's things are sent to the palace. Thank you for your hospitality, Sir Zachariah."

"Let's get you the heck out of here, shall we?" Bobby whispered gruffly into Castiel's ear. Castiel breathed out a worried sigh, nodding as he hurried her from the manor.

The carriage was going so fast Castiel thought she might vomit. Or maybe that was just nerves. 

Dean's steward, Bobby, sat across from him, looking of all things amused. Castiel wasn't sure how to feel, but of all the emotions tumbling through her head, amusement wasn't actually one at the moment. Dread maybe, relief too strangely, excitement, fear, worry, anger...alright, perhaps a bit of amusement thinking about the look on her brothers dumb faces. 

Mostly dread. Yes she had escaped the manor, but was she really free? Could she really trust that Dean would accept her for who she was. Would the court? What if they found out the truth? It wasn't as if her family would keep quiet about it. Her stomach lurched again and she feared she really might lose her lunch. 

And then on top of all that, Crowley's words in the courtyard, the favor she owed the man. Would she be able to pull off the theft? Should she? What if she told Dean and she rejected him for it. 

Then it was too late for worry, they had arrived.


	26. Together at Last

"Dean, will you please stop pacing you are making me ill," Charlie grumbled, pinching her nose and leaning heavily onto the table. 

Jessica nodded, laying down a playing card in front of her. "Seriously, Dean, you are wearing a path in the hardwood."

Dean swore at them, and continued his route to the large bay window where he stood looking out into the middle distance. Sam rolled his eyes and stood up from the gaming table, despite Charlie and Jo's protests that the game wasn't over, and joined his brother at the window. 

"Stop worrying, if anyone can find her, Bobby can,” Sam said. 

Dean clenched his fists and closed his eyes, his expression pure pain. "What if he can't Sam? What if the dragon..."

"We have no evidence the dragon got her, all the other girls were found safe and alive in the cave." 

Dean didn't even know what he was saying anymore, he knew she hadn't been taken by the dragon, too many had seen her flee. But why had she left so suddenly? He had a sudden sinking thought as to why she had fled. 

"Okay, but there is...other stuff, that could be stopping her from getting here."

"What other stuff?" Sam asked.

"Nothing, it doesn't matter."

"Dean, come on. Tell me whatever it is you're hiding. We just saved Jo from a dragon, we've battled werewolves, vampires and ghosts since we were kids, please tell me what could possibly be in our way that we cannot stop it?"

"It isn't that type of issue, Sam," Dean said sharply, Charlie and Jess looked over at them, concerned. Dean leaned in with a quieter tone. "It's nothing."

Sam leaned closer to his brother, "Then what type of issue is it?"

Dean rolled his head back and stared at the ceiling, his back arched. "Sam," he groaned in annoyance.

"You brought it up," Sam reminded him. Knowing his brother wouldn't have mentioned something if he had no intention of sharing. Sometimes the king needed persuading. 

Dean bounced on his toes and brought his head back down. "Fine, look...Castiel..." he bit his lip, "Cas isn't exactly...like other women. She...she was born…she was called a boy when she was little. But she's really a she...in spirit...and..."

"Oh," Sam said, piecing together the story from what Dean had mentioned in the past weeks. "Oh." He said again, "she’s the man that helped you kill those demons in South Bend!"

Dean held up his hands to quiet him, shaking his head. "But she's a she. Okay? It doesn't matter what her family made her be, because she's Castiel." 

Sam nodded in understanding, "Yes, yes of course, I was just trying to make sense...my apologies."

"Just...just whatever you see, remember that okay? Treat her like a lady?"

Sam nodded, "So that's why you're worried they won't find her? Cause she could be dressed as a man?"

Dean shrugged, "I mean yes, but more to the point her family doesn't believe she's a woman and keep her dressed that way. Her step father may not let her try on that slipper. I thought when I made that decree that it would guarantee I could marry her without anyone protesting even if they found out her...biology. But now I just keep thinking that all her step father has to do is keep her foot out of that slipper and it's all over." 

The thunderous sound of horse hooves made them both look down into the courtyard. The guard had returned, the Stewards carriage a step behind with its four white horses at a steady trot. The carriage slowed to stop in front of the stairs. Dean tensed looking down, afraid at what he might find below. 

There stepping out of the carriage was Castiel, her hair loose around her shoulders, like she had been that night in his bed, her dress was a simple affair, but looked like it was perfectly tailored to her. She happened to look up and their eyes met across the distance. Time stood still and a radiant smile broke out across both their faces at the same time. 

Dean didn’t hesitate, running out of the room as fast as his legs would carry him. Castiel was just being led into the made entrance as he arrive. She was gazing around in awe as he came out at the top of the grand staircase. 

“Cas!” 

“Dean!” She beamed at him and ran up the stairs to meet him. Halfway up the stairs, one of her shoes fell off, but it didn’t slow her and she was in his arms, warm and alive and safe. He twirled her around on the landing, his lips crashing into hers as he set her down again. They looked into each others eyes and walked up to his rooms.


	27. Epilogue or Happily Ever After

The halls were all but deserted at this time of the morning, Castiel hurried past a servant and a pair of guards, who did nothing to stop her. They all knew she was with the King, and wished no ill will. The last couple days had been formal meals meetings and clothing fittings all jumbled up in her mind, punctuated by stolen hugs, kisses and other pleasures when they could get away. 

She still felt odd about it all. Despite Dean's assurances, and attentiveness, one thing kept her from truly letting herself be happy. The bargain she had struck with Crowley a constant reminder that she didn't deserve any of this.

So now she found herself clutching a scornful missive from the peddler and rushing through the castle at night in an attempt to make it right. 

Surely they wouldn't need the sword again. Dean, Sam, and Charlie had vanquished the dragons and all was well again. Giving the blade to the peddler wouldn't hurt anyone. After all if he went and used it on more dragons than the world would be even safer than before. 

The chest where they had placed the sword was in the trophy room, alongside heads of various animals and other weapons of different types. For some reason the trophy room also held bags of salt in one corner, looking incongruous with the other shining things. Castiel went straight to the chest and lifted out the sword, letting its velvet wrappings fall away. It gleamed in the light and she could feel the strange power radiating off of it. 

She closed the lid and stole away from the room, using a side door Dean had showed her when he took her on one of their many walks around the castle. 

Guilt threatened her again, but she pushed it down. A deal was a deal. And that was when she ran headlong into Dean. 

His face was expressionless. Castiel felt like his entire world was about to crash down. She couldn’t bear to see that look in his eyes. 

"Cas?" Was all he asked, trying to understand her betrayal. He stepped closer to her. She dropped the sword and collapsed into his chest telling spilling out the the whole story. 

Dean listened, and as she got the bargain he began to stroke her hair. 

"Oh Cas, why didn't you just tell me?"

"I -I don't know if you would still want me if I told you I had made such a deal."

"Well you’re a dummy," Castiel looked up at him, finding he was all smiles. Dean kissed her. "Now, lets go meet this peddler of yours and teach him a lesson. I have an idea."

He told her the plan and they went around to the gardens, stepping over another pentagram, and went to the place in the wall Crowley had mentioned in the letter. 

He was waiting. There on the other side of the low wall. Castiel stopped short. 

"You decided to show up," Crowley said flatly.

"If you want this so badly why don't you come and get it? Why make me do your dirty work."

Crowley's face became stormy. "Just hand me the blade girl."

Castiel suddenly saw that dug in the dirt was a freshly made pentagram, then he saw in the corner of his eye Dean hiding behind some bushes. 

Suddenly it all made sense. The peddler wasn't just some man, he was a demon. He had been working magic to aid her. To make all her dreams come true. 

Dean mouthed something at her. "Tell him to come and get it."

Cas nodded, trying hard to suppress the smile that was coming to his lips. 

"Come and get it, I can't risk getting mud on my skirts, I'll be found out."

Crowley rolled his eyes, but marched forward forcing himself through the crack in the wall. Then he was stuck, and not from the tight space. 

He growled. 

"You."

"Did you really think it would be that easy Crowley?" Dean asked, coming into view and taking the sword from Castiel. "I've told you before that your kind isn't welcome here."

"So you're going to kill me? In cold blood, in front of your bride?"

Dean looked over at Cas. "It wouldn't be the first time." He raised the dragonslayer to do just that, but Crowley held up a hand. 

"Please, I can help you find the one that killed your mother and father." 

This made Dean stop. His face was a dark cloud of anger. "You know where the yellow eyes demon is?"

They ended up letting the demon go, after extracting information and not a few promises from him. Castiel promised Dean that he had no more secrets up his sleeve.

"Come, Charlie leaves today, and we have much to do."

~~~~

"Princess Charlie, I do not know how I can ever repay your generosity and invaluable help in our time of need. I fear I have failed in our bargain-" Charlie held up a hand to stall Dean's fumbling words. 

"Your Highness, please," Dean saw her squeeze Jo's hand circumspectly, as they stood shoulder to shoulder before his throne. Once again he felt that he had completely lost control of his own kingdom, but he didn't really mind. No one ruled alone. "You have failed no one, least of all me. Matters of the heart are too complicated to trace, let alone lay at anyone’s feet for blame." She nodded kindly to Cas, who stood stoically next to Sam, looking like she might faint. "This doesn't mean we cannot have an alliance. I for one think it will be a stronger bond than a marriage of politics could ever have wrought. We have fought side by side and won. I only ask that if we should ever need aide you will come."

"In a heartbeat, my lady." 

She grinned, then schooled her face. "I would only ask one other small boon of you my lord." She glanced over at Jo, who gave her an intense but encouraging look back. "That I may return with Lady Joanne by my side as an ambassador to solidify our budding alliance."

Dean bowed his head. "If the Princess is agreeable I happily accept these terms." He motioned to Sam, and his brother brought forward the velvet wrapped dragonslayer sword, now completely free of its stone sheathing and gleaming from its recent grind and polish. "I would return your fabled weapon with the deepest gratitude for its lending."

"The sword was a gift, good sir, with the promise that your line will forever come to the aid of Scotland if ever such a weapon is needed again." Dean set the sword back in his brother's hands with a grateful nod. 

"As you wish. Steward, make sure the princess's personal guard are informed of the journey north. Now, let us adjourn this meeting and sit down for Princess Charlie's farewell feast!"

He held up his hands and the rooms erupted in applause and cheers as Charlie was escorted down the long red carpet, Princess Joanna at her side, both already dressed in travel clothes and ready to leave. Dean immediately turned to find Cas, who was still looking bewildered. She was dressed in a simple gown of navy blue, her hair skillfully coiffed, no doubt by his sister. She was still adjusting to the expensive gowns and life in court. "My lady."

Cas blushed. "I am not sure I am ever going to get used to that."

Dean bit his lip in worry, but she kissed his cheek. Dean felt the knot of worry dissipate, and squeezed her hand tightly. 

He turned back to the waiting crowd as they turned their attention back on the raised dais. "And without further ado, I present to the court and my citizens, my bride to be, the Lady Castiel of Haven." Cheers went up and the assembled all bowed and curtsied to the woman who would be Queen of them all. He turned to Castiel, who looked overwhelmed and took her into his arms kissing her soundly in front of all assembled.


End file.
